Vigilante Terrorist
by ALEO
Summary: With an FBI agent under his control just how far is a vigilante willing to go to catch a terrorist? NB: Sequel to Failure. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**VIGILANTE TERRORIST**

_**With an FBI agent under his control just how far is a vigilante willing to go to catch a terrorist? - NB: Pre Janus List.**_

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_**A/N:**__ This occurs quite some time before the Janus List. We haven't seen it here in Australia, in fact it will be some months yet before it's likely to air. This also means that I can't read all the post Janus List stories posted here either grumble. Anyway, on to the story…_

CHAPTER ONE

-100-111-1110-

Special Agent Don Eppes of the Los Angeles FBI Field Office did not consider shopping to be one of his favourite things. Yet here he was in the middle of one of the largest shopping centres in LA trying to find something to buy Charlie for Christmas. Though Christmas was not exactly a part of their religion it was a tradition that had been started to please their mother and they'd continued it on after her death.

What did one buy a math genius anyway? Don wandered from store to store without much success. Over the last few days during any spare hour he could snatch Don had come here searching. He'd been in the gadget stores looking at all the clever gizmos, he'd been in the puzzle shops but Charlie already had everything from those. Now he was hunting through music shops trying to find a piece of classical music his brother didn't have. _May as well try to find a needle in a haystack_, he thought. He smiled wryly to himself, Charlie probably used maths to do his Christmas shopping. A snappy equation on a chalk board to lead him directly to what to buy for his family.

Don finally decided that he needed a break, the cumulative effect of fighting the crowds over the last few days catching up to him. He peered through the steady stream of people, trying to find a small oasis of calm. There. He started to make his way across the crowded walkway to a spot that seemed to offer a respite from the crowd, an alcove leading to a service entrance over to his right. No seats but no crowds either. It was like swimming against a current, the crowd seeming to act with one mind to sweep him past his goal. Forced to push his way past several people laden with bags and boxes he earned a few growls and mutters from the happy Christmas shoppers.

He was jostled from behind, not for the first time, and finally his own Christmas spirit was rubbed a bit too raw. He started to turn to snap something at the person when something hard jabbed into his right side and stayed there. Scenarios flashed through his mind, everything from it being somebody's elbow to a gun. His FBI instincts kicked in to hyper-drive along with his pulse, _in his experience only one thing felt just like this did and it wasn't an elbow_. The next thought was automatically, _why?_ He was just a face in the crowd, he wasn't in any sort of uniform and his long winter coat completely hid the fact that he was carrying a weapon, not that you could see much more than the head and shoulders of anybody most of the time anyway. All this in the instant of his automatic gasp for breath.

Don tried to step aside to give himself room to turn and face the threat, but a hand firmly gripped his left shoulder and he was hustled along towards the alcove. Don managed to turn his head far enough to see behind him and felt the blood drain from his face as a frisson of fear ran down his spine. His right hand which had started to pull his coat aside to clear his holster suddenly ceased its movement as it became clammy and started to shake. He knew he was in deep trouble.

_Telford_. Despite the hat pulled low on his head there was no mistake.

His own personal bogeyman. It had only been a couple of weeks since the notice from New York that had bought thoughts of Telford to the fore. Telford who had twice held Don's life in the palm of his hand. Literally. Don had been in numerous dangerous situations, shootouts and the like during his time in the FBI. He'd had guns pointed directly at him, even fired at him. But only with Telford had he been defenceless and helpless. No body armour, no back-up from his team, no-one even knowing where he was or what was happening to him. Just alone with a gun pointed at him by an extremist whom he'd seen kill in cold blood. Now Telford was back, fresh from executing another FBI agent.

Not even Megan realised just how shaken Don had been by the whole experience. He'd always been able to put on a good game face and mirror that through his body language, something all cops quickly learned how to do. He was better at it than most. But inside, inside he was still struggling with the loss of control.

Don no longer noticed the crowd as they made their way the short distance into the alcove. A few steps inside and Telford stopped pushing. Don tried to turn again and this time he was allowed to do so but was then shoved hard against the wall which had been to his right. As this was the side from which the crowd was moving it meant that few, if any, of those rushing by would even be aware that anyone was in the alcove, their attention directed ahead of them, not beside or behind. Telford had moved with him so that he was still standing to Don's right needlessly blocking sight of what he was doing from the crowd that continued to surge past oblivious. His gun maintained a steady pressure against Don's ribs.

Don's hands had automatically risen to prevent his face from hitting the wall. Now they rested on the wall just below shoulder height as Telford expertly and efficiently patted Don down recovering his Glock and cell phone. Only a few moments had passed but Don was breathing hard, like he'd just run a few miles. He struggled to bring himself back under control, to regain his game face. Along with his fear of losing of control he also feared letting others know how he felt. Especially someone like Telford. In situations like this letting the offender have not only the physical upper hand but the emotional one as well would be disastrous.

"Hello Eppes."

"Telford." Don responded in kind, pleased that his voice at least was under control.

"You remember me." Telford was not surprised, just stating a fact. "Look to your right."

Don obediently turned his head and saw a man leaning casually against the corner at the entrance to the alcove. He had a bag at his feet and looked for all the world like a weary shopper. Except for his eyes, boring into Don's.

The man's right hand was in his pocket. When he saw he had Don's attention he partially pulled his hand out of his pocket to show what he held. A grenade. Don's breath caught and his body stiffened under Telford's left hand that was now resting on his back. The death toll if the grenade went off on the crowded concourse would be horrendous. He glanced downwards at the largish shopping bag wondering how many more grenades were in it. He looked back up in time to see the man flash him a knowing smile.

"Turn around." Telford instructed softly, satisfied that Don knew the stakes.

The restraining hand lifted off his back and the pressure from Telford's gun disappeared. Don turned, slowly and carefully, desperate to appear non-threatening. He allowed his trembling hands to drop to his sides, carefully keeping them in full view despite the fact that he'd been disarmed. Don saw that Telford's gun was no longer in evidence, hidden somewhere under the man's coat. It was after all, quite superfluous.

"I have your attention?" Telford asked.

"What do you want?" Don demanded. "Why are you back from New York?" He couldn't help adding. Always the FBI agent, always trying to gain information and confirm suspicions.

"Very good." Telford smiled slightly. "You've been keeping up."

"You've killed another agent."

"She was dirty, just like the others."

Don unfortunately believed him. The last time they had met Telford had given him two envelopes relating to the agents executed in LA over the last four or so years. As much as he had hated the idea of dragging the dead agents names through the mud on Telford's word he had followed up on the information. To his surprise and disappointment he had been able to confirm what Telford had told him. Those agents had been on the take. Law enforcement officers who went bad were generally very good at covering their tracks so the evidence had been subtle, but it was there when you knew to look. The investigations were concluded and he'd compiled solid briefs of evidence against the two agents. As they were both dead however, there was nothing further that could be done. The information was simply filed and not disclosed to their families. No need to destroy their lives further.

"You know about the file I sent New York." A simple statement of fact. Telford would know. He always knew.

"Of course."

"So now you're here to kill me." Don surmised. He thought back to the warnings he'd received telling him to stop investigating Telford. He frowned as his mind suddenly came to a conclusion. This was all wrong. Based on the way Telford operated, the first Don should have known about this was when he was killed. Somewhere quiet and private, in his own SUV most likely. Not ambushed in a crowded shopping mall. "No, you're not." He said slowly, showing the change in his thoughts.

The slight tilt to Telford's head indicated that he was pleased at Don's analysis. "That is yet to be decided." Telford then said in his infuriatingly polite tone.

"Dependant upon what?"

"Upon whether you help me or not."

Don's hands clenched into fists. "Then you are here to kill me, because I'm not helping you with anything!"

"Easy agent." Telford glanced at his man before focusing his attention back on Don. "Hear me out before making rash decisions."

"I'm not going to help you kill someone else." Don insisted, his bodyweight shifting as he unconsciously prepared to take a step forward. His fists, no longer trembling, started to rise.

Telford's left hand came up to rest flat against Don's chest. The man at the end of the alcove tensed and pulled his hand from his pocket, left hand reaching across with his index finger going through the loop on the grenade pin. All still out of sight of the crowds.

"Easy." Telford repeated with a hardening edge to his voice. He applied pressure with his hand to pin Don against the wall.

Don let himself be pushed back, horrified at how willing Telford's man was to use the grenade. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. He knew he was as good as dead but didn't want any innocents to die with him. His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat as he opened his eyes again to face Telford.

Telford saw the change and glancing at his man he nodded. The man relaxed, releasing the pin and putting his hand back into his pocket. Telford kept up the pressure on Don's chest however.

"Get it over with. I won't resist." Don said softly. He looked out at the passing crowd, unknowingly hostages to his cooperation. "Just don't hurt anyone else."

Don focused his gaze back at Telford to find the other looking at him appraisingly. There was a sudden 'click' followed by a sharp stinging sensation under his ribs causing him to inhale sharply. Don looked down and saw the blade of a wicked looking spring-blade knife. The tip was out of sight, pressing into his bare flesh having already sliced cleanly through his sweater and shirt. The blade was long enough and angled the right way to reach his heart. He'd automatically tensed but immediately forced himself to relax. He had meant what he said, he would not resist. He waited for Telford to press the blade home.

"You truly would let me kill you, agent?"

Don didn't answer, he couldn't. Suddenly he was back at the warehouse, hearing the safety on Boots's gun clicking off behind his head. He was back in his SUV, the chloroform pad over his face, consciousness fading. Both times he had known he was going to die. His breathing became ragged as he stared at the blade, fighting against his survival instincts. _Would it hurt?_ He wondered as his hands clenched and unclenched. It took all of his control but Don didn't move.

"I think you would. I have you agent." Telford decided, satisfied. He withdrew the knife, folding it away but not before Don noted the smear of blood on its tip. The appraising look was back. "But I think for only here and now. I want you for a bit longer than that."

"I'm not helping you." Don repeated. He was amazed at his ability to sound calm. "Kill me or walk away."

"I plan to walk away, but you are coming with me."

Don's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Telford's face trying to figure out what was going on. He felt anger rising to replace his fear. _Yes_, he thought savagely, _let's get out of here_. Away from the civilians, away to where the grenade was no longer a threat to others and he could take Telford on.

"Just as I thought." Telford read the clues in Don's face. "You will come with me agent and you will do as I say. Have a look in that bag at John's feet."

"What?" Don looked over to see Telford's man, John, push the bag gently with his foot in Don's direction.

Telford stepped back, his hands again empty. "I suggest you do so carefully, you don't want John to think you're up to something."

John's hand came back out of his pocket, his left swiftly pulling the pin from the grenade. He gently twisted his right hand to show that he was holding the lever in place with just one finger. Any attempt by Don to grab at the grenade or attack John would lead to him dropping it. Don knew what would happen a few seconds after that.

After a deep breath Don took a hesitant step towards the bag but when neither Telford nor John reacted he took another and then a third. He crouched then carefully pulled aside the top of the bag revealing a woman's silk scarf. With infinite care he lifted a corner of the scarf to see what lay beneath. He just as gently set the scarf back into place before standing and walking back to Telford.

"Remote?" Don asked.

"Yes. There are already four of them in this mall and that one makes five."

Don didn't doubt him for a moment. "You would threaten all these people to make me cooperate with you?"

"It's not all about you, Eppes. There is more going on, but yes I will threaten all these people."

Don knew that the mall would be open for the next twenty-eight hours or so. It was just after 11:00am now and the mall had advertised it would remain open all night and through until at least 5:00pm the next day for last minute shopping. From past years Don knew that the crowds would most likely remain at current levels for the whole time. That meant thousands of people in the building at any one moment in time.

"Do as I say and I'll let you call it in." Telford offered.

"I won't kill for you." Don finally said. "I won't make it possible for you to kill anyone else." It was surrender. He was making terms, but it was still surrender.

"I am quite capable of killing without your help." Telford said truthfully. He pointed towards the service doors at the end of the alcove. "Time's wasting. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER TWO

-100-1111-1110-

Don noticed movement to his left and watched as John melted into the crowd carrying the lethal bag. Telford had opened one of the doors and stood waiting for Don to follow, he appeared confident and his hands were still empty of weapons. He didn't need any, not any more. Don went through the door into the hall beyond. Telford walked silently behind him except for directions at junctions. They finally reached another door which opened onto a parking lot out the side of the building. They stepped out into the bright light, squinting as their eyes adjusted to the sunlight after spending so long in the relative darkness of artificial light.

Don looked quickly around and saw no-one in sight. It was a staff parking area, no shoppers loading bundles into cars or fighting over parking spaces. The side of the building from which they had emerged was a blank wall, no windows. Don also saw that Telford's hands were still empty. If he was quick enough, he thought, he could prevent Telford getting to the remote.

Telford saw the agent's resolve. He had been expecting it. He'd let the agent get a few steps ahead of him for just this reason. He quickly drew his gun and pointed it at Don, releasing the safety and putting his finger inside the trigger guard. Don froze. All his training told him that you didn't put your finger on the trigger until you were about to fire. He firmly believed that Telford had received the same training at some point which served to make the threat all that greater.

"I don't have the remote, Eppes. But I am the only one who knows who does." Telford warned. "And I am the only one who knows when I have to call to prevent detonation."

Telford waited a moment allowing his words to sink in. He removed his finger from the trigger, slid the safety back into place then without warning tossed the gun at Don. Despite it being counter to all his training Don instinctively caught the weapon. He dropped the magazine out and seeing that it was in fact loaded slid it back home. He racked the slide ensuring that a round was in the chamber before raising the gun and pointing it at Telford. His thumb flipped the safety so that it clicked off and now it was Don who slid his finger inside the trigger guard. It had taken only seconds and had happened without conscious thought.

Telford waited patiently, unconcerned at the gun pointed at him.

Don struggled with his thoughts and emotions. He now had Telford at gunpoint and could end this now. His finger tightened, taking up the slack on the trigger. The gun suddenly shook violently, Don immediately pulling his finger outside the trigger guard as he could no longer guarantee where the bullet was aimed. His arm dropped to his side as he almost dropped the gun. He just couldn't do it. Killing Telford would just sign the death warrants of innocent shoppers.

He then thought of himself, of what place he might hold in Telford's plans and what he could do to remove himself from them. His grip tightened as he started to turn the gun on himself, raising it towards his own head but realised he couldn't do that either. If he died here, either by his own hand or Telford's, no one else would know about the bombs. The nails and ball bearings he had seen packed in with the explosives would cause devastation. And that was just the one bomb, he couldn't bear to think of the death toll from five. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had no choice, he had to play along for now at least. Teeth clenched, he slid the safety back on, reversed the gun and handed it back to Telford, butt first.

Telford silently accepted the weapon, holstering it without expression. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and dialled a number. "I have him. … He's compliant. … We're on our way." He hung up and put the phone back into his pocket.

Telford pointed at a white SUV and Don started walking. He wanted to scream with frustration and kill something, preferably Telford, but could do nothing except meekly follow the other man's instructions. He was once again under Telford's control. This time was worse, this time it was by his own will, albeit under duress. There was always a choice. He'd had a loaded gun in his hand, the ability to control his own destiny, but was unable to use it. As his father had once said, the trick of making decisions was being able to live with them afterwards. The consequences of resistance were too severe for him to disobey at this point. He was resolute however, that he would not comply with instructions to kill or make it possible for Telford to kill anybody else.

He headed towards the passenger side as the vehicle was unlocked. The keys were then tossed at him and he was told he was driving. Don changed course and got into the drivers' seat. Following directions Don drove them across town. Telford again refused to speak during the trip except to give instructions. Don's repeated demands that Telford make good on his promise and allow him to call in the bomb threat were met with silence.

"Turn in here." Telford pointed at the basement garage entrance at the side of a multi-story office building.

Don turned in and touched the card Telford provided to the panel at the gate which opened to let them through. He worked his way down the levels until Telford was satisfied and allowed him to park. Don climbed out and waited at the front of the SUV for Telford to join him. "Now what?" He demanded as Telford just stood there.

"We wait."

"For what?"

"For me." A new voice answered from behind the SUV.

Don, already extremely tense, was startled. He spun and reached for his holster forgetting in that instant that it was empty. His hand touched air and he remembered. He raised his hands as he saw that the stranger had responded in kind and now had a gun pointed at him in reaction.

"That was foolish, agent." Telford admonished. "If Luke wasn't a professional you would be dead by now. That would be inconvenient for us after all the trouble we've gone to."

Luke approached keeping his gun aimed steadily at Don. "Skittish."

"That's to be expected." Telford replied casually. "And planned for."

Telford pushed an unresisting Don face first against the side of the SUV then reached under the agent's coat to the small of his back.

"You don't need them." Don said as his handcuffs were pulled from their pouch. "He startled me. You know I'm no threat."

Telford ignored him, snapping a bracelet around Don's left wrist and then pulled his right hand behind his back to meet it. Don rested his head against the SUV as he allowed himself to be restrained, more control lost. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "I overreacted. It won't happen again. I'm compliant." He gritted his teeth as he used Telford's word.

"I know you are. But this is necessary for security reasons." Telford explained stepping back.

Don turned around and was slammed back against the SUV by Luke. Luke grabbed hold of his lapel and braced his forearm across Don's chest.

"No one told you to move." Telford produced a small roll of surgical dressing tape. He tore a small strip off then raised it towards Don's face.

Don flinched, pulling his head away. "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want with you, agent. Or have you forgotten?"

Don glared at him until Luke abruptly pressed hard with his forearm. He grunted as Luke's elbow dug painfully into his chest. It seemed an answer was needed. "No, I haven't forgotten."

"Then close your eyes."

Don obeyed and felt strip of tape being gently applied to his right eyelid, taping it closed. Seconds later a second strip was applied to his left eye. Don experimentally tried to open his eyes but couldn't. He felt the first stirrings of panic but managed to push it down. If Telford was going to kill him he'd had ample opportunity. _He even had permission, _Don though bitterly. Don tried to think on the bright side, being blinded could actually mean he had a real prospect of surviving this encounter. He was being taken to something they didn't want him to see. If they were going to kill him then it hardly mattered what he saw. He was pulled forwards slightly, away from the side of the SUV and something was wrapped around his head and tied tightly. It felt like a strip of cloth, a blindfold.

"Come." Telford said.

Don felt each man take him by the upper arm and start to pull him along, guiding him around obstacles. He heard automatic doors open and he was pushed forwards a few steps before being stopped. He heard a key being slid into a lock and turned, followed by a button being pressed. Don felt pressure against his feet. They were in a lift heading upwards. During the ride the two men turned Don around, causing him to almost lose his balance but he recovered himself quickly.

He heard the 'ding' and felt the momentary lightness as the lift finally stopped. He was propelled out and directed along a short distance before he heard a door close behind him and he was pulled to a stop. Don was instructed to sit as he was pushed slightly backwards and felt something bump the back of his lower legs. It was a lounge chair of some sort. He knew he would have significant difficulty in getting himself back up as it was so deep and soft. He adjusted his hands as best he could; despite the padding it was uncomfortable to be sitting with his hands trapped behind him, the cuffs digging into his back and wrists.

"We finally get to meet Agent Eppes." An electronically distorted voice said suddenly.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Don demanded lifting his head towards the sound. He decided that this must be the mysterious employer that Telford had referred to.

"Who I am is unimportant." The distorted voice answered. Don couldn't even tell if the speaker was male or female. "I have been watching your work for some time now."

There was a pause as if a comment was expected. "Yeah, well that's great." Don said finally, losing patience. "But it is about time someone told me what is going on here. There is a mall full of people which you've filled with bombs and I want to know what you want. Or, so help me, I will make your goons kill me here and now so I'll be useless to you." He struggled to the edge of the seat, trying to rise.

A hand pressed firmly on his right shoulder, a thumb digging into the nerve on the muscle causing pain to shoot down his arm. As he cried out something struck him hard across the face. Don felt his lip split, the coppery taste of blood on his tongue.

"Enough!" The distorted voice instructed. The speaker seemed displeased with the assault on the agent. "I think he's been pushed far enough. He has the right to some answers now."

Don licked his bloodied lip as the hand lifted from his shoulder. His arm continued to ache but it would pass.

"You know what we do." The voice said, more a statement than a question.

"You kill FBI agents and informants." Don answered bluntly.

There was an electronic sigh. "I suppose from your perspective that's correct."

"Now you've moved into terrorism."

"Not exactly."

"Then what do you call the bombs at the mall? Designed to kill and maim as many people as possible." Don said heatedly.

"You've heard of Zuheen, Eppes?"

"What do you know of Zuheen?" Don asked. Zuheen was an international terrorist credited with numerous high profile bombings of hotels, police stations, office buildings and recently a railway station in various countries around the world. Zuheen always announced his attacks, daring the police and military to find the explosives and stop him. So far they had always failed, Zuheen never gave enough time, and many officers had lost their lives in the process. The nominated targets had always been destroyed, some with a great loss of civilian life.

"He is in the US as you know."

Don didn't answer that, the suspected whereabouts of Zuheen was supposed to be a secret. But Telford and his employer always seemed to be able to find things out that were supposed to be known internally to the FBI so Don wasn't all that surprised that they knew.

"What you probably don't know is that Homeland Security and the National Joint Terrorism Task Force have lost track of him."

Don didn't know that. That put a whole new terrifying slant on things. He'd received the briefing note advising all team leaders that Zuheen was believed to be in the US, more specifically the west coast. The Foreign Terrorist Tracking Task Force had lost Zuheen's trail a month or so ago but had gathered intel that the terrorist had made it onto the continental US. The briefing note had stressed that it was a possibility with a BOLO attached. It was not revealed that the DHS in conjunction with the NJTTF was actively watching a confirmed target. That would mean that Zuheen was positively in the US.

"How do you know this?" Don asked.

"We came across the information in New York a couple of weeks ago. During the background check on Gerhardt and the informant we found a connection to Zuheen. Gerhardt refused to cooperate, but the informant gave us a little."

"Before you killed them both." Don said bitterly. He didn't care if the agent was dirty or not. Actually he did, but that was hardly relevant any more. She had been summarily executed and he was here now with her murderers, unable to act.

"That is done, Eppes. There are more important issues to address here." The voice sounded annoyed.

"So why are you going to blow up a mall?"

"We want Zuheen. He is here in LA. We will do what it takes to get him. So will you."

"I already told Telford, I won't kill for you or help you kill."

"I'm sure you want Zuheen as much as we do."

"If Homeland Security lost him they can find him again. I'm not going to help you blow up a mall full of people to get him." He failed to see how that would help but it seemed to be what they were trying to do.

Telford spoke. "I already told you agent, I don't need your help to kill."

"Hopefully we can avoid that." The electronic voice added quickly. "We want to make Zuheen reveal himself. From what we can tell of Zuheen's character he won't be able to resist protesting his innocence. You see, you are going to tell the world that the mall is in his hands."

"What?" Don again struggled to sit forward. He then turned his head towards where he'd last heard Telford's voice. "That's what you meant by saying I could call this in. You want me to protect you and blame this all on Zuheen. Where's my evidence? They won't believe me."

"Proof will be provided. The rest is up to you."

"You want me to shake things up, get Homeland Security, the NSA and FBI all running around beating the bushes to drive Zuheen out." Don concluded. He then admitted: "Yes I want Zuheen, everyone does."

"Then don't disappoint me, Eppes."

"Prove to me that he really is here and I'll get the word out. But you've got to pull those bombs out of the mall."

"They stay." The voice said firmly. "It is distasteful to us, but it has to be done. Without suitable motivation it will take too long to find him. Make no mistake, he is planning something on our soil and we are going to stop him."

Don hung his head. He had no choice. "Alright. Let me call it in and I'll tell them it's Zuheen."

There was a sudden snatch of music. Don thought it must have been a cell phone starting to ring before it abruptly stopped. The music sounded familiar, the signature notes to a piece of classical music that he knew but couldn't immediately place. He filed it away carefully in that part of his mind that training had created to perfectly recall details. If he heard it again he would remember.

"Telford, explain the groundrules."

"We'll let you go, agent. You call in the bombs, you tell them it is Zuheen. You've been contacted by the bomber's men and you are their link to the government. Make that very clear."

"You want me to set myself up as Zuheen's target." Don stated. If they were right and this would force the terrorist out of hiding then Don would be his immediate target as the visible messenger.

"Yes. Zuheen finds you, we find Zuheen." Telford confirmed. "Once you've called it in the mall is to be locked down, no evacuation. Any sign of evacuation or if bomb disposal attempts an entry then we set one of the bombs off."

"No." Don protested, but Telford carried on.

"You will be available to us at all times. If we call, you come running. If you disobey us or reveal our plan we set one of the bombs off. There are five bombs, it is up to you how many of them go off."

"I won't be in control of this investigation, it will be taken out of my hands." Don argued.

"You are the bombers contact, they will keep you close to get instructions from you. We will call with those instructions when necessary. The media will know you are pivotal to this and you will speak with them. The FBI will not be able to keep you out."

_It could work_, Don thought. He would be the contact between the bombers and the FBI. The bombers just weren't Zuheen. Telford and his boss were working well beyond the levels they'd previously demonstrated but they seemed to be confident and in control. Don was somewhat amazed at their ability to put together such a major operation in a short period of time. But he suspected that they had probably recruited more ex-military men to aid them after the last ones had been executed by Telford. Unfortunately he fully believed that they were able to carry out their threats. He'd already seen that Telford was an extremist at heart, it seemed his boss was no different. Don could still see no alternative at this stage other than to cooperate.

"How long do I have?"

"Twenty-four hours." The electronic voice answered.

"Then let me go, I have work to do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER THREE

-100-1111-1110-

Don was pulled to his feet and taken out of the room. Another ride in the lift then the smells of exhaust fumes and warm engines told him they were back in the garage. He felt hands at this head unwrapping the blindfold followed by hands at his wrists unlocking the handcuffs. Once his hands were free he carefully pulled the tape from his eyelids and opened his eyes, absently rubbing his sore wrists.

They were back next to the SUV. Telford, minus the hat, was standing in front of him holding out his cuffs. Luke was nowhere to be seen. Don took back his handcuffs, placing them into their pouch on his belt.

"Get in." Telford once again held out the keys.

"Where are we going?" Don asked getting in and starting the engine.

"Back to the mall, to your SUV."

Don drove back, trying to find the quickest way. LA traffic was never good but today it was almost impossible. Traffic was nearly as bad as peak hour. Don blinked in surprise when he saw the time. It was nearly 1:00pm. People everywhere were headed out to take care of last minute shopping. Finally the mall came into sight and Don joined the queue of vehicles trying to enter the parking lot. Once on the internal ring road Don headed towards the eastern side of the building where he had parked. Upon reaching the correct row he went to turn in but a man in a mall security uniform stepped in front of him. Don stopped and wound down the window.

"All full here buddy. Keep it moving." The guard said, sounding as if he'd said the same thing hundreds of time today and probably had.

Don reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge and ID. "Federal agent. Let us through."

"Sorry sir." The guard stepped back. "Anything I should know about?"

"We can handle it." Don assured the man. "We'll call if we need you."

He started to drive on but the guard held up a hand. He pulled out a card and handed it over. "That's our direct number."

"Thanks." Don pocketed the card along with his ID. It was going to come in handy soon.

Don drove carefully down the row, avoiding shoppers too burdened with purchases to be watching where they were walking. After a near collision with a pick-up that suddenly reversed out of a parking space, Don stopped just shy of his black SUV.

Telford reached inside his jacket twice, first pulling out Don's cell phone then his Glock. Of the two items Don wanted the cell phone more. He almost snatched it in his eagerness, flipping it open and starting to dial 911. Telford's hand closed over his before he'd dialled the first '1' preventing him from dialling further.

"You said I could call it in." Don protested.

"And you shall." Telford replied. "First things first." The Glock was still lying on his palm. He hefted it towards Don indicating that the agent should take it.

Don took back his weapon cautiously. He checked it carefully, then once satisfied that all was in order he reinserted the magazine and awkwardly holstered the gun. Belt holsters were not designed to be accessed whilst sitting, and were especially difficult in a vehicle.

Telford then pulled a small box from his outside jacket pocket. He extended the small aerial, smiling slightly at the shocked expression on the FBI agent's face. "This is for the secondary explosives. My employer has the primary detonator." He explained.

"There are more bombs?" Don was incredulous. _What were these people on?_

"Outside all the entrances." Telford was very matter-of-fact. "A demonstration is in order."

Don couldn't help it, he looked back via the rear view mirror at the east entrance visible a short distance away at the end of the row. He watched in silence as mainly women and children entered and exited.

"Call mall security. Have them clear the entrances." Telford ordered, his finger resting on the switch. "They have five minutes."

Don didn't waste time thinking or arguing. He retrieved the security guard's card and dialled the number. Telford reached over pulling Don's hand down, pressing the button to put the cell on speaker-phone as the call connected.

"_Security office. North LA mall."_ The female voice answered.

"This is Special Agent Don Eppes of the FBI. Put me through to the head of security now. This is an emergency."

A few seconds passed then a male voice announced: _"Shane Fawcett. What's the emergency?"_

"Don Eppes, FBI. I've just received information that there are explosives at the entrances to your mall. You have to clear the area now."

There was a brief silence. _"I'm gonna need more than just a voice on the phone before I evacuate the mall. Its two days before Christmas, do you realise how many people are in here?"_

Don looked over at Telford. Telford knew what he was thinking and shook his head. There would be no evacuation. Don turned his attention back to the phone. "Have someone call the FBI field office, they'll confirm who I am. There is no time to evacuate. You have to clear those entrances, no one in or out. You have less than four minutes."

"_Hold the line, agent." _

Don then heard the security officer call out in the background: _"Michelle, call the FBI, see if they have an Agent Eppes working there."_ There was a pause and then: _"All security, all security. Code 1, code 1. This is Fawcett." _ Terse instructions followed. Don turned his gaze back to the rear view mirror. He saw the guard he just spoken to abruptly turn and run to the building entrance.

A crowd started to gather, held back at the entrance by the guard. Don covered the microphone with his other hand. "What's the blast radius?"

Telford glanced dispassionately over his shoulder. "They'll be okay."

"_Agent?"_ Fawcett's voice came from the cell. _"Agent, are you there?"_

"Yes, Mr Fawcett?"

"_I'm having the entrances cleared."_ He reported. He didn't have any options, he had to take the chance that the threat was real. Regardless of whether Don was really FBI or was the bomber himself. It seemed, though, that he was prepared to believe he was speaking to an FBI agent: _"How long before LAPD get here?"_

Don looked at Telford for guidance. When there was no reaction he answered: "I'm about the call them. I only just got the intel."

"_Tell them to hurry. If this happens I'm going to have over two thousand panicking people in here."_ Fawcett broke off the connection.

Don immediately dialled 911. It would be quicker to get units rolling by calling LAPD dispatch directly rather than going through FBI control.

"_911."_

Don identified himself. "I've just received information that bombs have been placed at the North LA mall. I've notified mall security. I need units to assist at the mall."

"_Rolling units and bomb disposal."_ The dispatcher stated calmly, nothing much fazed them. _"Is there a deadline?"_

"Any moment now."

"_Shift supervisor being advised."_ The dispatcher stated. _"Agent, what is your location?"_

Telford reached across and pressed the end button on the cell. "Good." He held up the remote and without hesitation flipped the switch.

Don couldn't help it, he lunged for Telford's hand but was too late. The sound of multiple explosions froze him in place as the other man dropped the now useless device. The sounds of screams galvanised Don into action, he reefed open the door and started to fling himself out of the SUV. A hand on his right forearm jerked him to a stop.

"Let me go!" Don demanded. His attention was on the eastern entranceway, now obscured by smoke. People were running away. He thought he could see blood on some of them.

Telford started to speak rapidly. "We have the mall under surveillance. We also have the bombs under surveillance. No one in, no one out. No interference with the bombs if they are located by security. Remember the target is Zuheen. Any deviation from the plan and we detonate a primary bomb."

"I have a scene to control and an investigation to start." Don said tightly through clenched teeth. He refused to look at Telford as he continued to watch the chaos near the building. The smoke was starting to clear. There did not appear to be any major structural damage. The restraining hand released him.

Don slid out and ran to his SUV. He unlocked it, threw his coat inside and pulled out the jacket emblazoned with the yellow letters 'FBI'. He turned his attention to his phone and did not see the white SUV pull away. He hit the speed dial and was answered by FBI control as he hurried to the entrance.

"This is Eppes, 3695. Terrorist alert. All response units to the North LA mall. Bombs have already been detonated, more in place. Up to two thousand hostages. I'm on the scene. LEO's notified and en-route. EMTs required urgently, multiple casualties. Inform Homeland Security, bomber is Zuheen." Don said tersely before he snapped the phone closed. He had reached the debris field.

The area was a mess, shattered glass and fragments of metal with rubbish everywhere. He looked towards what appeared to be the epicentre and saw the base of a round structure he recognised as a trash bin. He remembered seeing it when he had gone into the mall. The bins were hidden tastefully inside decorated metal cylinders. The bomb must have been inside the bin. He assumed that the same must have happened at other entrances to the mall based on the multiple detonations he had heard.

He found the security guard he's spoken to a few minutes before. The guard had some cuts and his shirt was ripped but he appeared to be generally okay. Don approached him and offered his help.

The guard looked at him without recognition. "Get out of here man, a bomb just went off. There might be more."

"I know. I'm FBI, remember?" Don said taking the man's arm to centre him. "I've got emergency services rolling. LAPD are on their way."

The guard finally recognised him, looking at the agent with relief. "I don't know what to do. We're not trained for this."

Don looked around, saw some wounded sitting over near the base of the wall. They looked like they had been told to sit there. He saw the elderly man that the guard was kneeling beside, a bag under his head as a cushion. "We keep doing exactly what you're already doing. Let's help these people here. EMTs will be here soon."

Don and the guard went from person to person assessing injuries and making them comfortable. Don was thankful to see that most of the injuries were minor, mostly cuts from pieces of metal and flying glass as the bomb shattered the glass doors at the entry way. The guard had done a good job of keeping people back. A little boy was the worst injured with a broken arm and some burns. He must have been the closest to the bin when it went up. He knelt beside the boy who was pale and crying.

A woman was cradling the boy. "He was just going to put rubbish in the bin. It exploded!" She told him in shock.

Don's anger burned steadily. This was not just about Telford threatening and terrorising him, nor was it about innocent shoppers unknowingly being hostages to his cooperation. People, innocent people, had now been hurt unnecessarily. Don had surrendered himself, had agreed to follow their instructions. This demonstration was wholly unneeded. _These people_, Don looked at the boy and his mother he was kneeling beside, _this boy should not have been hurt_.

Don forced himself to move on, but mercifully there were no more injured. Many shoppers had run away in shock, those still in the vicinity were dazed. After they rounded them up Don sent the group with the guard over to the side of the entrance, to where the other injured were sitting.

Don went back over to the remains of the bin. He checked to see if there were any remaining explosives. Failing to find any he started a quick inspection of the garden beds lining the entrance way. Again he found no more suspicious items. The background noise finally filtered through his mind. He looked at what was left of the entrance, seeing inside the building. A guard was standing there trying to hold back a sea of people wanting to get outside. Fortunately they were also mostly in shock, not yet fully determined to approach the damaged area. There were some more injured people inside but mindful of Telford's warning Don made no move to go to them.

Don grabbed his phone and scrolled back to the security office number. He pressed 'send'.

"_Security!"_ Fawcett's stressed voice answered.

"Eppes, FBI." Don said.

"_We've got to evacuate. The bombs have gone off, it must be safe now."_

"No!" Don said forcefully. He couldn't risk it. Everything else that Telford had told him had been truth. He had no doubt that the mall was being surveilled and that if he allowed people to exit then an internal bomb would be detonated before the area could be cleared. "You have emergency shutters. Lock it down."

"_What!"_

Don had seen the steel shutters still sitting flush in their tracks above the entrance. With them closed the guards would not be fighting a losing battle against the crowd. "Close the shutters. There are more bombs inside. If anyone gets out they go off."

Fawcett swore with feeling. A few seconds later there was a rattling noise and Don looked up to see the shutters descending.

There was a unified cry of protest from the people Don could see inside. Don stepped out into the middle of the entrance. "FBI! Everybody, stay back!" He yelled. He saw some recognise the letters on his jacket and the cries died down.

The shutters finally stopped. A small amount of debris had been trapped in the track but only enough to stop the shutters a inch or so off the concrete floor.

"Deploy your men to the fire exits. Get maintenance to lock the service exits." Don instructed trying to cover all the escape routes.

"_It's gonna get real ugly in here_." Fawcett warned.

"I know. We'll do everything we can to get you all out. But for now you must keep everyone in." Don told him then realised the phone had gone dead, Fawcett had hung up.

A hand touched his arm. "Are you Agent Eppes?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER FOUR

-100-1111-1110-

Don spun to see an LAPD officer. He looked behind the woman to see a squad car and several ambulances. EMT's were starting to move the wounded. In situations like this he knew the procedure was to remove all obviously mobile patients from the immediate vicinity of the explosion before commencing full triage. He nodded. "I'm Eppes."

She grabbed her radio and called in that she had found him. An instruction came back to get him to the northern parking lot.

"Command post?" Don queried as he followed her to the squad car.

"Yeah. I'm taking you to the shift supervisor." She answered.

Don realised that not much time had actually passed since the explosions, twenty minutes at the most. It took a few more minutes to make their way to the north side of the building, dodging around cars still stuck on the ring road and avoiding some pedestrians that were wandering around in confusion. Finally they screeched to a halt near some other squad cars and a larger truck. Don followed his escort over to a sergeant who was issuing orders to some officers. Another sergeant in coveralls stood next to him.

The uniformed sergeant glanced at him, finished his instructions then introduced himself and his colleague as the other officers raced off. "Sergeant Gavin Harrison, north LA supervisor, Sergeant Andrew Moran, bomb disposal."

"Don Eppes." They shook hands.

"What have you got?" Harrison asked making notations on his clipboard.

"I've been contacted by the bombers." Don started. He then told the man about the threat of internal bombs and that he had ordered the building locked down.

"How many inside?"

"Not sure, could be as many as two thousand. Maybe more."

The shift supervisor swore. There would be a lot of that today Don knew. "Alright. We'll evacuate everyone from outside. Bomb disposal are going to go over the exterior, make sure that there are no more explosives."

Don nodded, that had not been forbidden.

"Do you know what type of explosives we're up against?" Moran asked.

"I don't know what was used outside." Don answered. "They showed me one of the internal bombs; remote controlled, two bricks of C4 packed with nails and ball bearings."

"Anti-personnel." Moran identified. "Nasty. How many?"

"Five, that they've told me." Don realised he had no reason to expect that there weren't any more. Telford hadn't told him about the ones at the entrance until just before detonation.

"Do you know where they are placed?"

"No. There are a lot of places in there that would amplify the effect." Don said locking down a shudder at the thought. Plant such a bomb behind a glass window and the shrapnel would be increased. There were a lot of glass windows inside the mall. And with all the open concourse areas the resultant shrapnel and remaining ball bearings would be able to travel a fair way, injuring many.

Moran nodded in agreement. He looked to Harrison. "We'll get to work." The bomb disposal man strode off towards where his men were waiting patiently by their truck checking over equipment.

"Agent Eppes!" A woman's voice called out from behind them. "Agent Eppes!"

Harrison and the agent turned to see a woman jogging towards them. She was followed by a man carrying a television camera. Harrison groaned, that was all he needed, the media. It was inevitable, he'd just been hoping it would take them longer to get around the traffic snarl. He should have realised though that small things such as traffic laws wouldn't stop them. The media always find a way through. Sure enough, another reporter and another cameraman were a short distance behind.

Don's normal reaction was the same as Harrison. He preferred to avoid the media where possible, the FBI field office had an agent assigned as a media liaison. Today was not a normal day however. He then realised that he had been called by name.

The first reporter reached him. "Mandy Simpkins, K-CAL 9. You are Agent Eppes?"

"Yes. How did you know my name?" He demanded. The second reporter and cameraman arrived. Now he had two microphones shoved under his nose.

Mandy pulled her microphone back. "We received a message telling us you were here. The mad bomber Zuheen is in contact with you isn't he?"

"Who told you that?" Don asked as the microphone reappeared under his nose. It was disconcerting and he tried to ignore it, speaking directly at the first reporter.

"K-CAL 9 received a coded message just now informing us that there are bombs in the North LA Mall. He told us that you, Agent Eppes, are his contact. What more can you give us?"

Don remembered that Telford had said the media would know he was involved directly. Sending the media a coded message using Zuheen's code was part of the proof they mentioned, proof that Zuheen had set the bombs in the mall. Don felt his blood pressure rise as he was again forced to act against his training and instincts. "I can confirm that there are bombs inside the mall. No one is allowed out. A number of smaller bombs have gone off at the entrances."

Harrison looked at Don in disbelief as the second reporter fired off a question.

"KTLA, Bob Warner reporting. How many bombs inside?" The man asked.

"Five bombs."

"When will they go off? What does Zuheen want?" K-CAL 9 jumped in.

"We have 24 hours. No one is allowed in or out of the mall. He's holding two thousand people hostage. I'm waiting to be contacted with further demands." Don said.

"When will he call you?" KTLA demanded.

"I don't know."

"Why has Zuheen targeted the mall?"

"I don't know."

"This is Zuheen's first attack since France. How long has Zuheen been in the country?

"I don't know." Don was getting exasperated. This was worse than an interrogation. The questions were coming faster than he could think and showed no signs of stopping.

"But you knew he was here. How long have the FBI been tracking him? When did you know he was in California?"

"I can't answer that." Don had had enough, he turned and walked away. Harrison had waved over a couple of officers who managed to hold the reporters back as Don went over to the bomb disposal truck to put as much room between him and the media as he could for the moment.

Harrison bailed him up as he got there. "What the hell was that all about, agent? Now half of LA is going to panic, the other half will be panicking in a few minutes when the first half call them."

Don faced the angry sergeant, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he answered. "I had no choice. Zuheen wants me to speak to the media. If I don't one of the bombs will be set off."

Harrison wasn't happy but he could hardly argue. "Well I don't have to deal with them. When I get enough officers here to form a proper set of cordons they will be pushed right back. Nothing I can do about them though." He added looking upwards as a helicopter buzzed overhead.

Don also looked up and saw the livery of another news service on the side of a helicopter barely 500 feet up. He saw the glint of light off the camera lens mounted under the machine as it circled overhead. There was nothing he could do about them either; there was no threat at this point that could close the airspace over the mall.

"Can someone run me back to my SUV?" Don asked.

Harrison waved over a newly arrived officer. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to do the perimeter of the building and come back here. I've called my office so there should be agents here shortly. The Joint Terrorism Task Force will be activated and someone from that will take over as Incident Commander. I need to be able to make a full report for handover."

Harrison knew what that was all about. As the senior LAPD officer on scene he was the Police Forward Commander, a role that he would be gladly relinquishing once someone superior to him arrived. He made another note on his clipboard. Until he could spare someone to act as record keeper, he had to do that as well. He looked at his officer. "Take Agent Eppes back to his vehicle. Then come back here for tasking."

"Yes Sarge." He headed back to his squad car with Don in tow.

The trip back was quicker than before, most of the traffic had been finally moved off the ring road and away from the building. He saw that the EMTs were collecting the last of the wounded near the east entrance as they turned down the row Don indicated. He sent the LAPD officer back as he unlocked his SUV.

His trip around the perimeter of the large building took a while, especially when he stopped near each entranceway to check on damage, injuries and the security of the emergency shutters. Don saw that the entrances were mostly clear now, with LAPD at each. He spoke to the officers impressing upon them the need to ensure that the building was secure. He learnt that no-one had died but several people had received severe injuries and many more suffered minor shrapnel wounds and shock.

He finally returned to the north carpark and was surprised to see how many emergency services vehicles were now waiting there. Everything from LAPD SWAT trucks to fire trucks. As Don drove around looking for a spot to park he saw a set of black SUVs with tags he recognised from his building. He steered towards them and pulled to a stop. A few heads from a group of people standing nearby turned as he did so. By the time he turned the engine off three had started his way.

"Hey Don." Megan called out by way of greeting, following up with: "Merrick's pissed."

"Yeah, I kinda thought he would be." Don said. "I'm sure glad to see you guys." He didn't just mean his team, he meant the entire federal contingent.

"What happened to you?" Colby said peering at Don's split lip. "Got too close to one of the explosions?"

"No." Don answered without thinking. "Got too close to a terrorist."

"You got one of them?" David cut in.

"No." Don touched his lip, he'd forgotten all about it until now. It felt swollen and he noticed that it hurt as he spoke. _How had he not felt it until now?_ "A terrorist got me."

"How's that?" Colby asked, alarmed.

"Agent Eppes!"

Don and his team turned. The Assistant Director in Charge was definitely pissed. He had stepped away from the other agents he'd been speaking to and was waving his arm in abrupt motions, _come here!_ Don squared his shoulders and walked over, meeting the ADIC alone at the front of one of the SUVs.

"You were a SAC, you should know better." Merrick started in, his words no less forceful for the lack of volume. "Never speak to the media without approval. You know what panic your little interview is causing?"

Don had been a Special Agent in Charge, running the Albuquerque field office and did know better. Speaking to the media was something best left to media liaison officers who not only knew what to say but more importantly how to say it. It was drilled into the trainees at Quantico and was a part of every other law enforcement agency's training. After a few years of service, distrust of the media became ingrained, even offenders at times seemed more trustworthy. "I know. I had no choice."

"I'm listening."

Don told his tale, carefully edited, of how a representative of Zuheen had taken him, shown him a bomb and demanded he act as go between. He'd decided it would be best if he didn't claim to have met the terrorist himself. He knew very little about the man but there were others that did. It would be too easy to slip up on a detail and expose the whole deception.

"Alright." Merrick said neutrally, not making comment on whether or not he believed his subordinate. "Why you?"

Don had a theory on that. Telford and his employer could have picked someone else but Telford had picked him. Don thought that was the key, _Telford_ _had picked him and clearly enjoyed having power over him_. The agent knew that Telford carried a grudge, he had said as much back in the car in the middle of the desert all those months ago. "I don't know. Right place, right time I guess."

Merrick grunted. He was not stupid. In normal circumstances perhaps you could distinguish an FBI agent on the street, there was a certain attitude, if you like, that went along with the suit and sunglasses. In a winter coat and a crowd however it wasn't as easy to differentiate an FBI agent from any other man wearing business style clothing. He let it go for now. "What does he want then?"

Don ran his hand through his hair. "Aside from media coverage, I don't know yet."

Merrick thought for a few seconds, staring at his agent trying to read more from his body language. Not too much forthcoming from that angle. He reached a decision. "Right. You're compromised."

Don automatically started to raise an objection but stopped with Merrick's raised hand. It was true. He'd surrendered control of himself, of his very life, to Telford. He was compromised. He'd as good as said that there may be further demands made of him. His interview with the media demonstrated his compliance with the demands made thus far and therefore the likelihood of him following further instructions was strong. Don knew that, if the situations were reversed, he wouldn't trust him either.

"Go back to the office. I want you in the major incident room when I get back there." Merrick turned away, dismissing his agent.

"But I have to…." Don started to say.

"You just have to stay available; you can do that just as well at the MIR."

"Yes sir." He yanked his keys from his pocket and went back to his SUV. He didn't see the quick conversation between Merrick and Reeves.

"Don, wait up." Megan called out as he jumped into the driver's seat.

Don looked out the windshield as his passenger door opened and Megan climbed in. He saw Merrick watching and realised that he'd sent her to go with him. She was his partner and Merrick probably considered her to be compromised as well. "So he sent you to baby sit me, huh?" The words came out with a bit more venom behind them than he intended. He wasn't angry with her.

Megan looked at him in response to his tone. "Something like that, yeah."

Don chirped his tyres as he reversed enough to get a clear path away from the other vehicles. Merrick cast a disapproving glare in his direction but that was the least of his worries.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER FIVE

-100-1111-1110-

Megan watched her boss as they sped through traffic back to the FBI building. He was normally more controlled than this. She could see the anger in his choppy movements, the way he was almost recklessly speeding through the busy streets not caring if he cut people off. Merrick hadn't told her much, just that Don had been contacted by the terrorist and he was to be watched. As a suspect or a victim she wasn't sure, the way Merrick had said it raised the ambiguity. Either way she didn't really like being used this way. She counted herself as Don's friend and wanted to help him, not watch him.

"You said a 'terrorist got you'. What happened, Don?"

"I'm sure Merrick told you." He sounded the horn and dodged around a car moving too slowly for his mood.

"He spoke to me for all of two seconds." Megan said patiently, trying not to react to his driving. No point in her losing her temper, it would only set Don right off. "If we are going to help you we need to know what's going on."

He desperately wanted to tell her, to tell someone what was really going on. But he kept silent, aggressively making his way through the busy streets, needing the release from his anger and frustration. He was going to have to lie to everyone, protect the guilty, and send them on a wild goose chase after an innocent man. No, Zuheen was hardly innocent, he corrected himself, not with all the deaths on his hands worldwide. But the terrorist was not responsible for this outrage. The villains in this piece were fellow Americans, fellow countrymen claiming to be acting for the common good. Home grown terrorists.

The first hour or so back at the office passed in a blur of activity as Don and Megan working under the direction of one of the SACs helped set up the MIR, organising the rooms, activating the dedicated phone lines and sending other agents scurrying for equipment and supplies. It seemed that every time he looked up, Don could see more and more people in the office. Representatives from the agencies that comprised the LA Joint Terrorism Task Force were also arriving. While Don didn't recognise any of the faces directly he did recognise the various identifications that were being worn, ranging from the gold shields of LAPD detectives to the photographic tags of Secret Service, CIA, ATF, FEMA and DHS. The NSA for whom Charlie often consulted were noticeably absent as was the LA Mayor's Department.

Don and Megan had gone to the break room to make a coffee after finishing their task when he noticed that those JTTF members present had started to loosely convene. He knew the formal process would not have started as yet due to the absence of some members. Under the reasonable assumption that he would be needed to provide an initial briefing he started to make his way back into the MIR.

"Sorry Agent Eppes, ADIC's orders." SAC Brenton said as he shook his head and pulled the door closed, preventing Don from entering the room.

Megan looked at him questioningly as he re-entered the break room shaking his head.

"Brenton locked me out." Don explained.

"They haven't started yet." Megan commented. "They'll be calling for you soon enough. Why don't we get started on your report?"

Megan's suggestion made sense, it was all going to have to be put on paper at some point and it would help consolidate his thoughts. They made their way over to their cubicle and he started typing. Don had outlined the order of events and was about to go back and expand on the detail when he was interrupted by Merrick calling him. He hadn't even realised Merrick had returned.

Entering the MIR he saw that the briefing was well underway with a live video feed showing several views of the exterior of the mall on one screen and news broadcasts being monitored, sound off, on other screens. He briefly saw himself on one screen, they were replaying his interview.

"This is Special Agent Eppes." Merrick introduced him to the room. "He was contacted by the bombers this morning and was able to provide a warning to mall security before the external explosives were detonated."

Don took the floor and provided his account. He left out the trip to the office building to speak with Telford's employer, but gave a mostly full account of the rest. He'd realised whilst outlining the events for his report that he had to change the time that he was intercepted in the mall, making it somewhat so later than it really happened. Fortunately he'd not given Merrick a time frame when he'd given his first version back at the mall parking lot. There was no other way to hide the trip into the centre of LA. Telford he painted as Zuheen's representative and failed to provide a description.

"So you didn't meet Zuheen himself?" An older man wearing DHS identification asked.

"No. Just one of his men."

"One? I thought you met two at the mall."

"The second man never said anything."

"How do you know the man you spoke to really represents Zuheen?"

"He said that proof would be provided. The media were contacted using the identification code for Zuheen and were given my details."

"So you're basing your conclusion that it was Zuheen's man on what he told you and on the media?" The DHA agent persisted.

Don realised how thin his argument sounded. It all hinged on how secure the identification code for Zuheen was. As it was a code in the hands of the media it was possible that it was not that secure at all. If his contact had not been Telford he would have been very doubtful of the alleged identity of the bomber himself. Don was saved from answering when his cell phone rang. He ignored the irritated looks from some of those in the room and raised the device to his ear. "Eppes."

"_Hello agent."_ An electronic voice said.

Don waved his hand to attract Merrick's attention and pointed at his phone. "They don't believe you represent Zuheen." Don told the voice. "They want more proof."

"_Is this phone being monitored?"_ The electronic voice asked.

"No."

"_Good. It is not to be monitored, understand?" _

Don frowned slightly, the electronic voice sounded the same as the one in the office but the intonation was different, much more like Telford. "Yes."

"_Give me a recorded line. I will call again on that number."_

Don went to the nearest dedicated MIR phone line and read off the number. The call to his cell disconnected.

"Was it them?" Merrick demanded.

"Yes. He'll call back on that line. He wanted it to be recorded." During situations like this all incoming calls to the MIR would be recorded.

The MIR phone rang. Don hesitated but Merrick indicated that he should answer the call. "Eppes."

"_Put the phone on speaker."_

"You're on speaker." Don announced after pressing the appropriate button.

"_I will speak to the lead agent from Department of Homeland Security_." The electronic voice said.

The DHS agent approached the phone. "Agent Barnathan, DHS."

"_You want proof."_ The voice said. _"You have read the reports from your spies, your 'terrorist task force'?"_

"Yes."

"_Then you know that I lost them in Bonn a month ago."_

"Yes."

"_Then I let them pick up my trail in New York a couple of weeks ago."_

"How did you…" Barnathan started to ask.

"…_know that you know? I have my own spies."_ The voice finished smugly. _"Three weeks ago there was a chemical convoy travelling through Arizona, the inventory was short when it reached its destination. I left my mark for you to find."_

Barnathan looked worried. "What was the name of the chemical company?"

"_BCCM, little known outside of the military as I understand it. They make all sorts of interesting compounds don't they?"_ The voice stated. _"Now, is that enough proof that I am Zuheen or shall I detonate another bomb?"_

"No. Detonation will not be necessary." Barnathan said quickly. "What do you want?"

"_I have what I want for now. All further communication will be via Agent Eppes."_

Barnathan started to ask another question but the line had gone dead. The voice had gone. "What does he want?" Barnathan asked Don instead.

"I don't know. I've only been given the instructions I told you. His man never told me why or what they wanted. Just the 24 hour time frame."

"You're dismissed agent. Thank-you."

Don turned to Merrick but the ADIC tipped his head towards the door, confirming that he was no longer welcome.

"Make yourself available, Agent Eppes." Barnathan added as Don opened the door and started to step out from the room.

Don nodded then started to close the door. The message was clear, Barnathan was not finished with him yet. As the door shut he heard the senior DHS agent announce to the room that they knew what they wanted, they wanted to find Zuheen. Don couldn't argue with that. It was what Telford wanted. The less pushing that Don had to do the better.

Don went back to his team's cubicle to find them all waiting for him. He repeated his briefing for them.

"What do you want us to do?" David asked when Don had finished.

"Wait to be assigned a task." He glanced back at the MIR. "Looks like they're about done and they should have taskings for everyone soon."

Sure enough the door to the MIR opened and a general briefing was announced for all teams. As the FBI agents headed towards Merrick, Don noted Barnathan and two other agents pushing their way against the tide towards him. Don waved his team on and sat back down.

"Don?" Megan queried.

"Go ahead, I think I'm needed elsewhere." He indicated the approaching DHS agents.

"Eppes." Barnathan said by way of greeting as Don's team left. "Somewhere quieter perhaps?"

Don led the way to an interrogation room. Barnathan and one other agent followed him in, the third DHS agent waited outside.

"I've already told you everything." Don started after reluctantly seating himself on the suspect's side of the table, waved there by Barnathan. The room felt completely different from that position. "I'm working on a detailed report."

"Good, I'll read it when you're done. For now, let's have it all again."

Don sighed, but there was nothing for it and so repeated the story.

"That call was very convenient." Barnathan said when Don had finished.

"What?"

"We start questioning how you know it is Zuheen and he conveniently calls you just at that time. He had no demands to make, no instructions to you." The other man outlined. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm the one stuck in the middle here. I've only been told so much, exactly what I've told you. You expect me to know everything else."

"When you answered your cell you said 'they don't believe you represent Zuheen'. Correct?"

"Yes."

"But the person who called back claimed to be Zuheen." Barnathan said. "Which is it?"

"Which is what?"

"It seemed to me that you were speaking to the same person on your cell and then the landline. You suggested it was a representative of Zuheen, not the man himself."

"I thought it was the man I spoke to in the mall." Don said thinking fast. "I never spoke to Zuheen and the man in the mall didn't have an electronic voice. I expected to be contacted by Zuheen's man, not Zuheen himself. How was I supposed to be able to tell who it was when the voice was distorted like that?"

Barnathan thought for a moment. "I suppose that's plausible."

"There you go." Don said in relief. "Look, I didn't ask for this. Some guy shoves a gun in my back and shows me a bomb and tells me it's Zuheen's work. Now you're treating me like the bad guy."

"No. I had a quick look at your record, agent. I don't think you're the 'bad guy' as you put it. But I do think that you are holding something back. Now I can accept that you may be under instructions, under duress, not to reveal certain things but you need to tell us everything."

"If that were the case then I couldn't tell you any more than I have already." Don said carefully. "So it gets us nowhere."

"What you tell me remains confidential."

"What I tell you becomes part of this investigation, nothing will remain confidential."

"You told the LAPD Shift Supervisor that they threatened to set off a bomb if you didn't do as they told you."

Don was surprised Barnathan had been that thoroughly briefed in such a short time. "Yes. Zuheen's man told me that I had to speak with the media, to confirm that Zuheen was the bomber. If I didn't then they threatened to detonate one of the bombs."

"What else will you do for them?" Barnathan asked. "What else have you already done for them?"

"Nothing. I've done nothing else."

"Yet."

"Look, he wants to be able to contact me. That's a good thing, it means he wants to have a dialogue with us. He's never done that before has he?"

"No, he hasn't." Barnathan sat back. "Alright, we'll play it his way for now. Let's see where this 'dialogue' of yours takes us. But Merrick is right, you are compromised, agent. Zuheen has a hold over you and you can't be trusted."

"The only hold he has over me is the same he has over all of us, a mall full of Christmas shoppers." Don argued.

"He hasn't made any demands of us, just of you. Why did he pick you?"

Don gave him the same answer he'd given Merrick. "Right place at the right time."

"Your ADIC didn't believe that, neither do I. I think that they were fortunate to be able to contact you at the mall, but I think that you were their target all along. This is too well planned to leave to chance that an FBI agent would be shopping there today."

Don had been doing more thinking on that subject since Merrick first asked about it. Just because he'd been to the mall over the last couple of days didn't mean he was going to be going there again today. He figured he'd been under surveillance and would have been intercepted elsewhere and taken to the mall if he hadn't made it there under his own steam. Telford had already proven himself to be adept at surveillance and to be able to appear and have Don at a disadvantage without warning. He remembered leaving the office all those months ago, looking for a tail but not spotting one. Telford had still managed to end up in the back seat of his SUV after an unplanned stop at a gas station for groceries.

The advantage of picking him was that he already had history with Telford; he already knew what Telford was capable of and would believe his threats. Another agent would have to be convinced and that would have taken more time. And probably lives. The evidence that it was truly Zuheen was a little thin, better now after the phone call. It helped with the deception if their 'contact' truly believed, or at least presented the belief, that the terrorist was responsible.

"I can't answer that." Don said finally.

"Can't or won't?"

Don didn't bother replying to that. It sounded rhetorical and Don felt that Barnathan had already made up his mind in regard to that issue anyway. "So where does that leave us?"

"It leaves us with your team having controlled exposure to the investigation and you out of the loop." Barnathan explained.

"My team has nothing to do with this." Don said. It wasn't fair. "I'm the one Zuheen has contacted, not them."

"Perhaps. But you are close to them and they are close to you. I saw you before, giving them everything you gave us. Perhaps even more?"

"Nothing more." Don didn't want his team dragged through the mud with him. "They got what you got. They deserve that."

"Their exposure will still be controlled."

"I understand." He didn't have to like it but he knew what Barnathan wanted. "I'll keep my distance."

"Good." Barnathan stood. "Meet your new best friend, Agent Wachowski."

Don glanced up at the younger man who'd remained silent the whole time. He had the look of a very junior agent. "My 'new best friend'?" He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

"He goes where you go." Barnathan explained. "You are compromised but I can't exclude you completely at this stage. This is your best option."

Don pondered the choice of words 'your best option' not 'our best option'. They could keep tabs on him and keep him handy for further contact with the bomber by just locking him up. Barnathan was giving him a chance, giving him some rope. Whether that was a chance to hang himself or not was yet to be determined.

Don stood. "Well, Agent Wachowski. I guess it's time I got that report typed up."

As Don led Wachowski across the bull pen he heard the lift 'ding'. He automatically glanced over as the doors opened. A group of men in suits stepped out followed by a younger man with dark curly hair carrying a laptop bag.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, your comments have helped to clarify some points and tweak the story even more. Read on. . ._

CHAPTER SIX

-10100-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

"Surveillance footage." Colby said in disgust as they left the briefing. "They want us to get surveillance footage. Anyone can do that."

"Alright genius." David started. "How are we going to get it? It's not like we can walk in and ask for it, remember?"

"Guys." Megan interrupted. "We know why we've been given this job. They don't trust Don so they don't know if they can trust us. Let's just do it right. It's the only way we can help him now."

"So how do we get the footage?"

"We need to find out what sort of system they use. If we're really lucky they have an internet based system."

Colby grabbed the tasking sheet from her hand. On it was the mall phone number along with the timings for the footage based on Don's briefing. Luck was definitely with them, the mall belonged to a company that had all surveillance footage from their properties downloaded to a central site. All it took was another phone call and they were provided with the internet address and an administrator level passcode granting them full access to the site. On a normal day they would have been tied up with days of paperwork getting a warrant but under these circumstances they would have got one from a federal judge in about an hour since an emergency had been declared. Given the situation however, the company was only too anxious to be helpful and no warrant was needed.

They headed to the computer lab to get to work. As they stepped into the lift to head down David noted that one had started upwards from the ground floor.

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

Charlie stepped out of the lift following the NSA agents. He was at a bit of a loss as to what was going on. Two NSA agents had interrupted his late afternoon class on the math of the _Loop Quantum Gravity Theory_, something he'd been helping Larry with. They told him to bring all his work on Zuheen with him. It had taken him a moment or two to pull his head away from the complex math he'd been teaching to recall the other work he'd been doing recently. He'd been consulting on the international terrorist at the joint request of the CIA and the NSA in order to provide a predictive algorithm for the NJTTF. They'd told him a couple of weeks or so ago that they wanted the algorithm as they believed the terrorist had managed to make his way past the Foreign Terrorist Tracking Task Force and was on US soil.

His first thought when the agents had interrupted his lecture had been that something had happened to Don but that didn't make any sense. If that had been the case it would have been someone from the FBI dragging him out of class, not the NSA. The fact that it was the NSA and they needed his data on Zuheen suggested that something big must have happened for them to have all but dragged him from CalSci and then race him with sirens screaming to the FBI LA Field Office. There he found himself in the lift from the basement garage with the head NSA agent from LA and several other agents. A briefing had been promised once they got to the FBI.

Charlie looked around as usual, hoping to spot Don but not really expecting to. As there was obviously some sort of emergency going on he figured Don would be out there somewhere chasing the bad guys. Subsequently he was surprised to see Don staring at him from only a short distance away.

"Don!" Charlie called out.

"Hey, Charlie. What are you doing here?" Don asked but then got a good look at the tag on Charlie's lapel. It was an NSA ID tag rather than his usual FBI tag. "The NSA bought you in."

Charlie looked at the NSA agents waiting for him. "Go ahead. I'll catch up in a sec."

Don held out a hand barring the path of the NSA agents. The whole group stopped, looking at the FBI agent curiously. "No, wait up. Charlie, I can't talk to you about this, about anything for the moment."

Charlie saw Don glance back at the young man standing behind him and then on to the older man standing near an interview room. Both strangers were wearing DHS tags. Charlie looked back to his older brother in confusion, it almost looked like the younger DHS agent was a guard by the way he was standing. But that couldn't be right, Don still had his ever-present gun attached to his hip and badge on his belt. The fact that something was definitely off though was very clear. "Don, what…"

"Charlie." Don interrupted firmly. "I can't talk to you. They'll brief you on all you need to know. You'll understand then, okay buddy?"

"But-" Charlie started then changed his mind. He saw his brother's split and swollen lip. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Don lowered his restraining hand. "Now go."

The NSA agents headed off but Charlie hesitated until Don deliberately turned away and walked off, followed by the DHS agent. Charlie looked over at the older DHS agent and found him watching him with a measuring gaze. Charlie wasn't sure he liked the look but shook it off and hurried to catch up to the others. Don had promised he would understand once he was briefed.

-100-1111-1110-

Seeing his brother had been nice but frustrating when he knew he couldn't talk to him. Don worked on distracting himself by typing up his report.

"Agent Eppes." Merrick interrupted.

Don sat back from his computer, looking up at the ADIC. He then saw the other, older man and noted that the colour of the man's FBI tag indicated he had extremely high level access. Don rose to his feet.

"Agent Eppes, this is Deputy Assistant Director Ryder."

Don immediately extended his right hand. "Sir." He recognised the name, if not the face. Ryder was the head of the Criminal Investigations Division of the FBI. A very senior agent indeed, in overall charge of the division under which all the field offices, including the LA field office, operated. Don and even the ADIC were well down the food chain.

"Pleased to meet you, agent." Ryder said, shaking his hand. "Bit of a mess this. I haven't been fully briefed yet but I understand you are in the middle?"

"Yes, boss." Don confirmed.

"Alright. We'll see what we can do to fix that. Carry on."

"Thanks, boss." Don said as Merrick and Ryder headed towards the MIR. Don sat back down.

Wachowski watched the new man walk away with interest. He'd known Agent Eppes for all of, he checked his watch, forty-five minutes now but the impression he'd already formed didn't fit with the somewhat submissive responses the FBI agent had just given the new man. He looked back to his charge. "Big boss?"

"Yeah." Ryder only had two superiors, three if you counted the President of the United States.

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

A little over half an hour later Charlie was furiously working on his laptop. He now understood why his brother wouldn't talk to him. It rankled but he could understand. Before the briefing had even gotten properly underway he'd been introduced by the NSA and then almost thrown straight out. There followed a heated argument with the NSA insisting that Charlie be allowed to stay and work, that any taint attached to Don was nothing to do with their math expert. The other members of the JTTF had insisted that the NSA find another math expert, but the NSA, with the backing of the CIA, had just as stubbornly insisted that they would only work with the best. Besides which Charlie had already been working on a Zuheen matter for them and was fully cleared. Grudgingly, the JTTF had accepted Charlie on the condition he not have any further contact with his brother. Now Charlie saw why Don had held the NSA agents back to hear the whole conversation they'd had upon exiting the lift.

"Professor Eppes?"

Charlie looked up from his typing to see one of the NSA agents.

"It's been cleared. There was more arguing but they've acceded to your request on two conditions."

"Yes?" Charlie asked.

"They only get briefed after the JTTF. The JTTF can also order you to hold back some information if they feel it too much of a risk."

"That's it?"

"We impressed upon them how important your work was. The ADIC helped as well. It is mostly the DHS that have a problem with Don's team and that's only because of Don. And since your brother is keeping clear, and they've assigned an agent to keep watch, they had less of a leg to stand on." The NSA agent shrugged. "So it's all good."

_It's not all good_, Charlie thought, _they don't trust Don_. That was also confirmation that the DHS agent was guarding his brother, not to protect him but to ensure that Don didn't become the threat. But he understood what the NSA agent meant. "Thanks."

Charlie had to put thoughts of his brother aside for now. He had got his concession and now had to produce a result. He wouldn't really have walked away as he'd let them think, although he was fairly sure that the NSA realised that, but he wanted to help Don as much as he could. If he couldn't help his brother directly, then he would help his brother's team.

He got straight back to plugging the new data into his predictive algorithm. It was a complex bit of work involving not only predicting targets but movement of Zuheen as well, which both effected and was affected by the targets. The algorithm was not as complete as he would like, there were more variables that he wanted to factor in but so far, in testing, it had worked perfectly. There was now no time for fine tuning. They needed the data now and couldn't wait for a few extra variables that probably wouldn't greatly change the outcome anyway.

-10100-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

Nothing, there was nothing.

The team were in the computer lab each viewing a computer screen looking at different sections of the mall. They had gone over the footage from all the cameras, up to a full half hour either side of the times they'd been given. Nothing, there was no sign of either Don or the terrorists. Megan even rang FBI control to confirm the time that Don had called in the emergency 1324hrs, 1:24pm. They worked back from there but still no footage of what they were after.

Colby sat back. "Something's not adding up here."

David had an abrupt thought. He should have checked earlier. "Hang on a minute." David clicked back to another screen showing real time footage of the mall. He ignored the images of people wandering around confused, others sitting around on the floor waiting. Everyone had expected full blown panic to break out inside the mall but for some reason it hadn't happened. Shock probably. David, along with everyone else had been amazed but that was not what he was looking for. He looked instead to the time on the bottom of each camera view. He double clicked on one camera view at random to enlarge the image. He pointed at the screen after checking his watch. "I thought maybe the times on the footage were out but they are correct."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Alright. Instead of working backwards, let's work forwards. What time did Don leave this morning to speak to that witness?"

Megan looked at her watch, she had no idea why, it just seemed to help. "Not long before nine."

"Do we know if he actually spoke to the witness?"

They looked at each other. It hadn't been mentioned. Megan got up and went over to the internal access terminal at the side of the room. She logged in and looked up Don's worksheet for today, as his partner she had joint access to any files they were working on together. He'd logged the name of the witness but no results as yet. That was understandable considering what happened afterwards. A few more clicks and she had the witness's details and phone number from the database.

"Mr Sheckley? This is Agent Reeves of the FBI. I wonder if you could help with a quick question. … What? An agent was coming to see you this morning, Mr Sheckley… I'm sorry Mr Sheckley?… He left here just before nine… You weren't home then? … Did he leave you a card? … He did? Can you tell me what time is on the card? … 9:20am. Thank-you Mr Sheckley… No, I'm sorry, it won't be today… Yes we do take this matter seriously… We've had a major incident come up, we'll be tied up on this for some time. Good-bye Mr Sheckley." Megan rolled her eyes as she hung up.

Colby and David sympathised. They'd all dealt with such people before, both as witnesses and complainants. Obviously Sheckley hadn't yet seen the news, but then again from the sounds of it, the mall probably didn't rate anything as more important than his own issues anyway.

David looked at his notepad, getting back to the issue at hand. "So Don was there at 0920hrs. From there to the mall would take?"

Megan checked the witness's address. "About ten minutes or so depending on traffic. We know its bad today so let's say twenty minutes, 0940hrs."

"I'm starting at 0920hrs." Colby announced, typing the start time into the search field on his screen. "We know exactly where he was then."

"Alright. Focus on the entrance cameras. We know he parked near the east entrance so he should have gone in there but David and I will double check the others."

The room fell silent as they each carefully watched their monitors on fast forward.

_**A/N (2):**__ In case anyone was wondering, I didn't make them up. The Joint Terrorism Task Force, the National Joint Terrorism Task Force and the Foreign Terrorist Tracking Task Force all exist._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER SEVEN

-100-1111-1110-

Don's cell phone suddenly rang. As Don pulled it from his pocket he saw that Wachowski was fully alert, his own cell in his hand.

"Eppes."

"_Hello, agent."_ It was the electronic voice again.

Don signalled to Wachowski that it was the call he thought it was. Wachowski pressed a speed dial button. Don turned away, concentrating on his own call. "What do you want?"

"_I have some demands. Write them down. Ready?"_

"Yes." Don scribbled quickly trying to get the information word for word. Fortunately years of speaking to witnesses had taught him to write fast, if not legibly. At least he could read it, mostly, and that was all that mattered.

"_Got that?" _

"Yes."

"_You will go public with that information."_

"What?" Don couldn't help but object.

"_There is no arguing, agent. You know the stakes." _

Once again Don was sure the voice was Telford. It had his style. "Alright. When?"

"_The sooner the better, it will go out live then give the late night news something to re-broadcast. Your other news grab is getting boring."_ The line went dead.

Don looked over his notes as Wachowski finished his call. The younger agent tapped him on the shoulder. "MIR, now."

The room went silent as they entered. Some agents were giving back the results of a tasking and were unceremoniously sent out. The door was closed and a 'no admittance' sign put up.

Don started to speak but halted at Merrick's raised hand. "Wait."

A few seconds later he saw the reason for the delay, Ryder opened the door and stepped in taking a place beside Merrick. At Merrick's signal Don started speaking. "I've just had a call from Zuheen. He's made his demands. He wants one hundred million dollars in gold. Delivery to be advised but it must be ready by 1000hrs tomorrow." He had to stop at the stir in the room.

Ryder held up a hand and the stir subsided. "Go ahead, Eppes."

"Sir. He said that the gold was to be taken from the Federal Reserve, he didn't care which one, and put on display. He will be calling us with delivery instructions after he's seen the gold on television."

"How much gold is that?" Ryder directed his question at the Secret Service representative who'd been searching the internet for gold prices.

The agent made some quick calculations. "At today's price that's over 155,000 ounces. Nearly 9,700 pounds."

"He doesn't care what depository?" The Secret Service agent asked.

"No. The gold just has to be outside, ready for transport. He wants it on television."

"Doable." The Secret Service agent commented.

"What else?" Ryder asked.

"He wants the following persons released from Guantanamo Bay." Don read out the list he'd made, ten names in all.

One of the CIA agents stepped up. "I'll take that list."

Don handed it over.

"He has to know that won't happen." The CIA agent commented, reading down the list.

"Anyone important?" Ryder asked.

"I have to check. The clearance for this will be very high."

"Let me know when you get the information." Ryder's clearance would be high enough. "Anything else, Eppes?"

"I have to give a press conference. He wants his demands public."

"No." The CIA agent said immediately. "This list must not go public."

"The names no, but he wants it known that he's asked for the release of ten detainees." Don clarified.

"Very well. The news conference will go ahead." Ryder decided. As lead agency the FBI had the ability to make such a call. "Is there a time frame?"

"As soon as possible." Don glanced at the monitors around the room. He saw that most channels were conducting continual broadcasts from the mall anyway.

"Thank-you, Eppes. We'll word up the release and arrange the media."

Don was dismissed again. He left the MIR along with his shadow.

-10100-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

Colby suddenly sat up. "Got him. East entrance, 0951hrs."

The three of them watched on the monitor as Don walked into the mall. Colby switched to the next camera and one camera at a time they followed Don's progress from shop to shop. With the benefit of fast forward they managed to compress an hour of time into thirty-five minutes. As time went on however, they were less able to use fast forward as it was getting harder to distinguish Don out of the thickening crowds.

"Wait, go back." Megan said suddenly. "What happened there?"

Colby used the mouse pointer to pull the time marker back a minute. When he released the marker the camera image started playing in real time. They watched as Don moved with the flow of the crowd but then started to angle off to the right.

"Look, there!" Megan tapped the screen. Don was jostled and started to turn sharply before stiffening up. It was obvious even with the crowd. Don then started to step sideways before a hand appeared on his shoulder. After that they saw that their boss was being steered towards the edge of the concourse with a man wearing a hat standing closely behind him. Close enough to be holding a gun on him.

"Pause that. I'll see if we can get another angle." David asked after carefully noting the camera number and time, 1112hrs.

Colby paused the camera they were watching and waited as David checked the schematic for the nearest cameras on his computer. But the other cameras were not of any real help, their viewing angle was fixed, with most pointing directly downwards. The only one that was a possible, in that it was pointing towards Don's face, was too far away to make out any detail. He tried the zoom but it just pixelated out into meaningless square blocks. David noted that camera's number down for their techs to try to improve the image. He nodded to Colby and he started his camera playing again.

Don was hustled into what looked like a service entrance way and out of view. They then saw another man stop at the corner and lean against the wall facing into the alcove. He put something down. A little time later he picked something up and melted into the crowd. Don and the man in the hat didn't reappear.

"Note that, we'll have to follow his path later, it could show us where at least one of the bombs are." Megan said. She then got back onto what their assignment was, Don's movements and interactions with the terrorists as seen under video surveillance. "This all matches what Don told us. But the time is wrong. This should nearly two hours later."

They looked at each other as the implications of that sank in. Don wasn't telling them everything. They'd suspected, but now they had proof.

"He'll have a good reason." Megan added.

"We know that, but they won't see it that way." Colby said, jabbing a thumb back over his shoulder. They all knew who 'they' were.

"Alright. Parking lot cameras, got anything we can use on those?" Megan directed, heading back to her own computer and typing in the time that they arrived. The camera views they saw were from high up allowing for maximum area coverage per camera. She scrolled forwards until they saw Don pull up to their group in his SUV. She then reversed the feed and they watched, switching cameras as necessary, as Don went backwards around the perimeter of the building, to the makeshift LAPD command post, to the east entrance, to his SUV and finally back to a white SUV. She froze the image just as the white suburban containing Don started moving backwards.

"This is not good." David said.

"Don was driving." Colby pointed out.

"There was someone else in there though." Megan moved the slider across causing the image to jump forwards. She froze it again at 1324hrs. Don was heading away from his black SUV as the white suburban drove off up the row. She jogged the footage back and forth but the other person in the white SUV didn't get out, obviously switching from the passengers' side to the drivers' side by sliding across.

She wound the footage back again noting the times between Don getting out of the SUV to when it first pulled to a stop. "Six and a half minutes. Don must have been in the white SUV when he called mall security."

"He said he was with Zuheen's man when the bombs went off at the entrances." David reminded them.

"Yes, but not about being in their car." Megan pointed out. She wound the footage back further, following the SUV until it left the range of the cameras at the road leading into the parking lot. They again exchanged glances, this was a major development. "And he never said anything about leaving the mall completely."

"They took him somewhere." Colby stated the obvious.

"But where and why didn't he tell us?" David asked.

"Because he's not allowed to."

Colby shook his head. "They are definitely not going to like this."

-100-1111-1110-

The glare of the lights in the FBI media room was almost overwhelming but Don had to let his eyes adjust and try not to look directly at them. As he'd expected the room was full with both local LA and national media agencies. They'd been clamouring for just such a conference and were quick to arrive. A bank of television cameras were lined up at the rear of the room, the seats were all full. Print media were busily snapping photos even before he started. Sound techs fiddled with the array of microphones spread out across the table in front of him. He waited impatiently for the go ahead.

Finally they were ready and he read from the prepared text. When he finished the questions began, but he'd been given strict instructions not to answer unless directed to do so. He sat silently as the LA field office's media liaison officer, Beth Fordham, fielded most of them.

"Agent Eppes, why have you been singled out?" A reporter asked. The liaison officer indicated he could answer this. The question had been expected. The FBI media section had even provided the media with a very short bio on him listing his age, years and location of service. Nothing in that could explain why he'd been singled out. He had no affiliations with any terrorist task forces nor had he participated in any high profile terrorist related investigations, at least not that the media were aware of.

"I don't know. I was at the mall when the bombs were planted. Aside from that I have no idea."

"You've seen the bombs?" Another voice called out.

"Yes."

"What are they?"

"Agent Eppes can't answer that. It's part of an ongoing investigation." Beth interrupted.

The questions moved on to the requested release of the ten detainees at Guantanamo Bay. The media got very little out of that line of inquiry. They then moved onto the gold. They'd been given the break down into ounces and pounds, along with a description of how such an amount of gold could be moved. They'd also already been given the standard line of not giving in to terrorists. They got it again.

"Zuheen has never made demands for money before. Why now?"

"We have no idea. He's always had an ideological reason before now. Why he has moved to more capitalistic goals is unknown."

"Agent Eppes, can you shed any light on that, you met him." A reporter asked.

"I never met him, just his men." Don clarified after receiving a nod. "They never discussed Zuheen's demands with me. I've only spoken to Zuheen twice on the phone. He didn't say what he intended to do with the gold."

"Surely such a demand just shows that Zuheen is just a common criminal after financial gain?"

"All terrorists are criminals." Don answered bluntly.

"How were you hurt? Did a terrorist do that?"

Don licked his sore lip. The swelling was starting to go down but a dark bruise was developing. "What happened to me is unimportant. There are two thousand people out there with bigger problems."

"So what is being done to get those people out of there?"

"Everything we can. This matter is at a delicate stage. We are working to resolve this as quickly as possible with no loss of life." Beth answered.

"How are the people in the mall coping?"

"They've been told what is happening. They have sufficient supplies from in-house food outlets to provide them with meals for now. They are as comfortable as we can make them. Mall management and security are doing their best for everyone." Beth explained. "We will get them out."

-10100-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

Colby was right. The team delivered their results direct to the ADIC in a corner of the MIR. Part way through Merrick called the senior agent from DHS over and they had to start from the beginning. By the time they'd finished their presentation, they knew that Don was going to be in for a hard time.

The DHS agent took their hardcopies of the screen captures they'd made to illustrate various points. "How long before your techs get the enhanced images to us?"

"They weren't sure." Megan answered. "I told them it was top priority, especially the one in the mall. We may get to see the man's face in that one."

"Uh, hello?" A familiar voice came from the door.

They turned to see Charlie standing there. "I don't mean to interrupt but I have that data ready." He'd glanced at them initially returning their nods of greeting, but mainly directed his attention to the NSA contingent.

Megan noticed the NSA tag clipped to his pocket and realised that the NSA had brought him in. She also realised that Charlie didn't mean that he had interrupted their briefing specifically, but the room in general as various conversations were taking place at once.

"Come in Professor." One of the NSA agents invited. "Set up, when you're ready we'll start."

Merrick turned to his agents. "Chase up those enhancements. Get whatever footage you can and have it put together. Follow that other terrorist and find out where that bomb is located."

"Yes sir." Megan answered for the team. She gathered their notes and they left quickly, closing the door behind them. They stopped a short distance away from the door.

"We've got to warn him." Colby said. He looked across the floor towards their cubicle where they'd last seen their boss over three hours ago. There were too many partitions between their relative positions however so he couldn't actually see Don.

"We can't." Megan said. "He'll know it's coming anyway. If we are going to be of use to him we have to keep our distance."

When they got to the video lab they found out about the press conference. They sat and watched as one of the techs replayed it for them. Don was starting to look tired.

"Gold?" David mused. "What would a terrorist do with gold?"

"Not exactly easy to transport." Colby contributed.

"He's not getting it anyway." Megan said. "Let's get back to work."

A while later they were hovering over the techs as they enhanced the footage from the mall. They weren't able to do much with the long shot view of face of the man behind Don. Unfortunately the bright sunlight also worked against them getting a view of the man in the white suburban in the parking lot. They struck out all round on that.

Another tech was painstakingly constructing a visual timeline of events by compiling all the different camera views. Yet another tech was working hard following the second terrorist and the shopping bag he carried through the heavy crowd.

From time to time David, Megan or Colby would stifle a yawn, watching surveillance footage on computer monitors, no matter how important was tiring. It had also been a long day and was going to be longer yet. No sleep tonight, time was rapidly getting away from them.

Megan's cell rang. It was Charlie, finally able to talk to them, inviting them back up to their floor saying he had some information for them. They could leave the techs to their work for a while.

They hoped it was good news, they really needed some.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER EIGHT

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

Nearly four hours after Charlie had arrived the team gathered in one of the smaller briefing rooms. They were finally together, albeit minus Don.

"Hey Charlie." Megan said as they filed in. "Good to see you."

"Yeah, likewise." Charlie answered. "Have you seen Don?"

"Not for a while, aside from the TV. You?"

"Same. I saw him for just a minute when I first got here. He told me he couldn't talk to me."

"I'm sorry, Charlie. But I think it's for the best, for now." Megan said trying to reassure him.

"I know, they told me." Charlie started busying himself with his laptop. "I just wish I could talk to him though."

Megan patted him on the shoulder then took a seat. They waited impatiently as he plugged his laptop into the large screen and set up the remote. A process that took only a minute or two but the time seemed to drag.

"C'mon Charlie, what've you got?" Megan asked unable to wait any longer. "You said you had information for us."

"I made a deal with them that I could give you whatever could be useful. There is some stuff I can't give you but I'll give you everything else. This will have to be quick, but whatever I can do to help you help Don, I'll do." Charlie said finally, hitting the last key on his laptop. A series of incomprehensible graphs appeared on the screen. He then switched into lecture mode.

"Alright, some of the math's very rough. I didn't have time to properly check all the sources or clean up the raw figures for the new data properly. If I had more time I could guarantee the accuracy." The professor ran down. He saw the expressions on his audience's faces and realised that they weren't interested in that, they wanted the results. He summed up. "The mall is wrong."

"Wrong how?" David queried.

"It's not Zuheen. At least I don't think it is; it couldn't be."

"Why not?"

"Okay, first of all the timing. We know that Zuheen has fifteen confirmed bombings to his name. I've found another four possibles." He pressed his remote and a list of the earliest attributed bombings appeared on the screen represented as a time line. "See here at the beginning, they're all jumbled together. The confirmed ones are in yellow, the possible ones are in red. After that they are further and further apart. See?"

The graph spanned the large screen. The red dots appeared first followed by the yellow ones as Charlie had pressed the remote during his explanation. The red ones were all clustered at the left end just under five years ago. As the time line approached the present however there were no more red dots, just yellow ones and they were further and further apart.

"Unlike most serial offenders he is taking longer and longer between bombings. Do you know why?" Charlie continued.

The screen cleared to show the list of targets, still listed in the red and yellow colours but this time as a list of names. The first few, regardless of colour, were places listed as police stations, restaurants, and a military convoy mainly in Iran, Iraq and Israel. The individual names of those meant nothing to the team, they were too long ago and, relatively speaking, too minor. The later ones however were more recognisable. A shopping mall in England, the Hilton Hotel in Saudi Arabia, the offices of Microsoft in India, the Australian Embassy in Malaysia, the US Embassy in Spain, the British Consulate in Japan, the sinking of the P&O cruise ship in the Mediterrean, and most recently the destruction of the main railway terminus in France along with several trains in motion on the tracks.

It was Colby with his military background that saw it first. "The targets are getting harder. It takes more time to recon and plan."

"Yes, that's right. And also the type of target has changed from a building to a moving object such as the ship and the three trains. The theme has also changed. He's gone from small police and military targets to larger commercial targets like the restaurants, shopping mall and Microsoft. He then moved to government buildings belonging to the Coalition of the Willing. Now he's attacking transport and transport infrastructure." Charlie stopped.

"So you're saying he wouldn't attack the mall." Megan said slowly. "He's already done that and it's no longer his type of target. Too soft."

"That's what the data is telling me." Charlie said.

Another graph appeared on the screen, a curve showing increasing probability against the X axis and the Y axis listing a number of possible targets in the LA area. The list contained about ten items and were printed too small even on the large screen to decipher. Charlie pointed at a target listed almost at the lowest end of the probability scale. "Here is the mall." He pressed his remote and the mall turned red, the other targets were coloured white, with the exception of one coloured green.

"I also factored in a whole list of other variables including likely types of explosives available to him compared with types previously used, blast yields, projected casualty figures, disruption effects and probable length of media interest." The last seemed like an odd variable but they were all aware of Zuheen's increasing love of the media. At each mentioned variable Charlie flicked the remote and the screen changed to a new graph. The graphs went by quickly but they could see that the red coloured indicator was mostly at the lowest end of each scale. It moved up somewhat on the casualty figures graph, but that was the only time the pattern changed. The green target figured mostly on the upper end of each scale, especially on the disruption graph with a score of 100.

The first probability graph reappeared. "The mall works out to 17 overall. That's too low. Zuheen couldn't be interested in it."

"Charlie, what's the green target?" David asked.

"LAX." The professor stated then elaborated. "Ninety-three percent overall. Can you imagine the effect of another air transport related terrorist attack in this country?"

The room was silent, each reflecting on memories of the last 'air transport related terrorist' event. It would bring the US to its knees. The attack on the rail terminus in France shut the network down for weeks. The result of LAX being targeted would be a whole order of magnitude worse. It would be far longer, this time, before US airspace would be re-opened with crushing restrictions.

"But security is too tight." David finally broke the silence.

"It's a challenge. That's how he sees his targets, increasing challenges. The mall is not a challenge. There's another problem." Charlie changed the screen back to his original time line graph. He pressed a key on his laptop and the line extended and a green dot appeared. Another key press and a blue line bisected the timeline between the last yellow dot and the new green dot.

Charlie used the laser pointer to highlight the blue line. "That's today. The last yellow marker is for France, the green is LAX." The graph zoomed in to show just those two markers and the blue line. Small figures in white appeared along the length of the timeline. "It's too early. The next attack should be at least three months away."

"But he's in contact with Don. He's claiming responsibility for the mall." Megan said. "It scored highly on your casualty graph and not too badly on the media graph either."

"Yeah, this is just all maths." Colby said earning a frown from the maths professor. He held up his hands to forestall the expected comeback. "He could still be planning to have a go at LAX but couldn't resist the mall. This time of year, it has to be an attractive target. Being so easy it wouldn't distract him from another hard target. Two targets for the price of one. You said yourself the maths is rough."

"That's true. So I tested the target probability equation against the known attacks." The screen changed again to more graphs. "I took out the last three. I then used the equation to predict the next likely targets in Japan, the Mediterranean area and France. At these times each of those countries knew that Zuheen was in the area and they tried to predict where he would strike. I've used their data of possible targets and my equation came up with this for Japan."

The graph showed several embassies and consulates including the British Consulate near the high probability end.

"This for the Mediterranean area."

The graph now showed various shipping targets, again with the P&O cruise ship near the top end.

"And this for France."

The team were not disappointed. The rail network again appeared at the high end of the scale.

Charlie continued. "For the US it shows this."

The graph showed a number of high profile and therefore attractive targets across the country ranging from the White House to military bases, theme parks, water supply, and transport infrastructure. Charlie had included all the major potential targets on the Homeland Security list. The airports were favoured at the high end of the scale.

"When I factor in the fact that everyone now believes Zuheen to be in California, more specifically LA, we get this."

Back to the earlier graph listing various targets around LA. LAX was the standout at the top of the chart.

Charlie continued his argument, waving at the screen. "It's not just this, the explosives are all wrong. Don described C4 mixed with ball bearings and nails. Zuheen has been moving to more effective and more esoteric compounds, binary liquids and so on. A raid attributed to Zuheen on a chemical convoy three weeks ago in Arizona netted him some more high tech explosives. He hasn't used basic C4 since Israel."

"What raid?" Colby asked. "Why haven't we heard about that?"

"It was kept quiet for obvious reasons." Charlie told him. He continued with his argument. "We've been given a deadline; Zuheen's done that before but never 24 hours. It's too long, it gives us too much of a chance to find the explosives and neutralise them and get the hostages out. His MO is to set a deadline just long enough for evacuation to have started and to get the maximum casualties amongst army, police and bomb disposal teams. Here there is no evacuation, the mall is locked down. He's holding the mall hostage, he's never done that before. He's also never contacted a single person as a spokesman, like what's happened to Don. Then there's the demand for money, in gold. It's never been about money, it's about rhetoric. There are too many firsts. It's not right. It just doesn't fit."

"So what does fit Charlie?" Megan asked. "Don says it's Zuheen, the bomber says he's Zuheen and the media are getting coded messages from him. What else fits?"

"I think that someone is trying to make us think it is Zuheen. I just don't know why." Charlie concluded.

He didn't add that he thought Don knew it wasn't Zuheen. He looked out the window from the briefing room in time to see Don, flanked by his ever present guard and a senior DHS agent, being escorted back to an interrogation room. Charlie had just given this briefing to the powers that be and now they had more questions to ask of Don. It wasn't fair, he could see that Don was under a lot of pressure, and they just added to it. Charlie just knew that more was going on. It was a brother thing, there wasn't any specific math to back him up. He had to find a way to learn what it was.

-100-1111-1110-

"We need to talk, Agent Eppes." Barnathan said.

Don looked up from his computer screen where he had been going over his case notes for a current file since the press conference. It was an attempt to relax, of all things, less stressful than just sitting around waiting for Telford to call, unable to take an active role in the investigation. He was also starting to feel unwell, pain developing in his stomach. Wachowski stood up from where he'd been leaning on a desk top. Without comment Don rose and followed the senior DHS agent back to the interrogation room.

"We've viewed the mall security footage." Barnathan started. He waited but no comment filled the silence. "There are some problems with your story. There's nearly two hours of missing time. What were you doing?"

Don had known that this time would come. He wasn't sure what explanation that he could give without causing more problems.

The DHS agent continued. "It's not just the footage. We've spoken to the security guard at the eastern mall entrance. He remembers you, and more importantly remembers you driving into the lot with another male in a white suburban just before the explosions. Who was that other man, Agent Eppes?"

"I can't."

"I told you before, agent, you need to be forthcoming with us."

"We've already had this discussion." Don reminded him.

"Where did they take you?"

Don stayed stubbornly silent.

"Alright then, let's try something else. Why did they take you away from the mall?"

Don thought about his best course of action as Barnathan waited. He had an out, to tell the DHS agent that he was not permitted to reveal certain things. He'd as good as already told Barnathan that this was one of those things. But on the other hand it could be used to further Telford's goals. He'd been isolated from the investigation but he had seen the various agents leaving on taskings and had watched as some had returned to report their results. Their demeanours had left him thinking that the investigation was not going well. He didn't know if the investigation was still on track or not, perhaps it needed a shot in the arm. He had his instructions. It left a bitter taste in his mouth but, "I was taken to Zuheen."

Barnathan blinked. "You didn't think that was important enough to tell us before?"

With the usually perfect, 20-20 hindsight, Don reflected that it probably would have been better to have volunteered the information earlier, when Barnathan had been pressuring him for proof that it had really been Zuheen he'd been dealing with. At the time though, he had been trying to keep the whole side trip below the radar. That just showed that he wasn't thinking too clearly if he thought he could keep it secret. Since that first interrogation he'd had time to think over what he'd said and more importantly not said and knew that the omission would come back to haunt him. "I wasn't sure it was really him. He wasn't introduced, I was blindfolded and he was using that electronic voice."

"But you recognised the distortion when he called the MIR."

Don's first tired thought was an irritated, _who else would be calling with a voice distorter?_ But he knew what Barnathan meant, different distortion devices had distinct sounds. The device used during his meeting was the same as the device used on the phone line into the MIR when Telford had managed to convince Barnathan that he was Zuheen. "Yes, it was the same."

"Okay, so that's the 'who', what about the 'why'?"

"I told Zuheen's man I needed more proof that it was him than just a bomb and his word."

"I seem to recall asking you the same thing earlier. Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"They'd told me what to say, they didn't mention that I could discuss the meeting."

"So why now?" Barnathan had a thought. "You've had more contact?"

"No."

Barnathan looked to his agent but Wachowski shook his head in the negative. "He's had no calls."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. You are following instructions. That, I can see. But if you were not supposed to reveal the meeting why have you done so?"

_Damn, _Don thought,_ Barnathan was a cluey character_. That was the problem with lies and omissions, they would always trip you up. "I want this over with. I want Zuheen found and his hand off that remote."

"What else will you give me?"

"What I can, when I can." Don answered. "Zuheen wants you to know it is him, telling you now that I have met him shouldn't cause him any problems."

Barnathan was silent for a while. "You seem to think that information will leak out. You told me before that information would not be kept confidential."

Don was on safer ground here, Telford himself had given him the answer to that one. "You heard him in the MIR, he has his spies."

Barnathan didn't react to Don's slight. Instead he looked slightly exasperated. "You said you want this over. You are our best lead to find him but you are not cooperating with us."

"I know that!" Don shot back. "Agent Barnathan, I am stuck in the middle here, being pushed by both sides. I have to find some middle ground, some way to help you but not get those people in the mall killed."

"You're trying to play both sides against the middle."

"If the middle is Zuheen caught and the people in the mall safe then that is exactly what I am trying to do. But where I am unsure of something I have to err on the side of Zuheen for now. He's holding the whole mall over you, but he's threatened individual detonations for my cooperation. I can't risk that. I can't risk those lives." Don stood abruptly. "We're done."

"Agent," Barnathan started, a warning tone to his voice.

"No. I have nothing else. You have more important work to do than waste your time with me on this subject." Don waited. Wachowski had moved to block the door when Barnathan had spoken.

"Alright, Eppes." Barnathan turned his head slightly and nodded at Wachowski. "We're done for now."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER NINE

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

Charlie noticed the exchange of glances amongst Don's team as his older brother vanished from view. "You know something." He said and waited. "Give."

"Don's not telling us everything." Megan finally said. She then outlined what they had found on the surveillance footage from the mall.

"There must be a reason he didn't tell us." Charlie said. "They must have forced him to keep quiet."

"That's what we think." She nodded towards the interrogation room containing Don. "DHS thinks more is going on. With what you just told us and the footage we've seen, I think there is too."

"So what can we do?"

"We just have to get everything we can."

"Surveillance!" Colby snapped his fingers and sat up. "Our job is surveillance footage right? What about the terrorist's surveillance?"

"What?"

"Don told us that the terrorists had the mall under surveillance."

David started to catch on. "You think they have cameras set up?"

"They can't hang around watching the mall, LAPD have that place saturated. For them to be close enough to see what is happening, that we aren't getting hostages out or sending bomb disposal in then they have to be using cameras."

"Or using the media." Charlie said.

"No." Colby said. "Not precise enough and too easily controlled by us."

Charlie didn't think that the media were easily controlled by the FBI. But then again, given the stakes they would probably play along if they were asked to hold off filming a section of 'background' for a little while.

"So they would have to have their own cameras. If we could see what they see then we'll know where the bombs are." Megan added.

"The only way that would work is if they are using wireless cameras." Charlie pointed out. "But if they are and you get me the frequency and strength along with a triangulation of the emitter I can work out the probable range of the transmission and map the best reception areas and black spots. Even better, if they are remote controlled we can backtrack the signal to the receiver/transmitter."

Charlie watched as Don's team headed rapidly for the door discussing what equipment they needed, radio detection gear and so forth. "Hey!"

"What, Charlie?"

"Check the data lines. They might just be tapping the mall security footage."

"Gotcha." Megan looked like she hadn't thought of that. He hadn't until just then either. She raced off to catch up to the others.

Charlie stood at a loss for a moment, wondering what he could do. The NSA hadn't given him any more data to work with, he'd done what he'd been called in to do. He was now just on standby in case they had something else.

He had a thought, if they found out where the bombs were then he would also need a schematic of the mall to map out the blast zones. They would then be able to move the hostages to safer areas, reduce the risk of casualties in the event of detonation. Maybe even find a way out that wasn't being monitored. He'd seen the blueprints on the wall in the MIR, had seen the company name on the bottom. He pulled a data cable from his laptop bag and found the room's internet connection. He plugged his laptop in and started work. He wanted to find his own copy of the blueprint, if he couldn't find it on the net or through the city databases then perhaps their father could help.

-100-1110-1110-

A piece of paper was abruptly shoved under his nose. Don automatically flinched backwards, then saw that it was Barnathan standing next to him. Don felt like he'd only just sat back in front of his computer after the last discussion with the DHS agent. He checked his watch, it was quarter to eleven.

"What now?"

"Read."

Don took the offered sheet and read it through after noting the header from an international news agency claiming that they had verified the identity of the sender for the following message. He saw that the time it was sent, shortly after ten o'clock, was perfect for it to hit the late night news editions.

'_Zuheen speaks. _

'_I am wronged. While I enjoy the American's fear for the lives of so many in their so called 'City of Angels', I deny responsibility. This is not my work, that target is beneath me. I have far better things planned for those who war against the true followers of Islam._

'_I do not seek glory or gold, such things are worthless. My work is the work of Allah. I am His spokesman. I will pass His word to the infidels and they will learn His truth through me. I do not use this government man, this FBI agent, to speak for me. _

'_I demand the American authorities make this FBI agent reveal his controllers, reveal their true identities, or I shall be forced to do so. _

'_I will not have my true cause defiled by infidels._

'_You are warned.''_

"It's running on all the news services." Barnathan told him when he looked up.

"I don't understand." Don said although he knew perfectly well what was happening. Telford's plan was working, the real Zuheen was not happy with being accused of the threat to the mall. It looked like the real terrorist was prepared to act openly in response, against him, based on the demands in the message. Such action would reveal his presence, make it more likely he would be caught. Don couldn't deny being pleased with that possibility. If such a result could come out of today then it would go some way to offsetting Telford and his employer holding two thousand innocent civilians hostage. _Some way_, he quantified, _but not all the way_.

"Neither do we. Why would he be so desperate to claim responsibility, make you give a press conference, no less, to blame this on him, and then turn around and send this? He told us all communication was to be through you, but he sends his own communiqué through his usual sources."

"This must be fake."

"They verified the sender."

"So did the local media. The same codes no doubt."

Barnathan nodded. "The code used was the same. But this would leave us with a problem, one of the two Zuheens must be an imposter."

"Why? Perhaps confusion is what he wants. Make us run around chasing our tails until it is too late to stop him." Don offered.

"Perhaps. There is still the issue that this is much more like Zuheen's style." Barnathan insisted. "You say they took you to see Zuheen, that he spoke directly to you."

"Yes."

"Write it all down, word for word what he said to you. I'll send it off to those who know Zuheen better. They will be able to make a better judgement."

Don didn't want that, the investigation would definitely derail if they were able to prove Don's Zuheen was the fake. "My recollection may not be perfect enough for these experts to do that."

"We will see. Start typing, Eppes."

He watched as Barnathan walked away. Sighing, he cleared the reports from his screen and opened a blank page. There was nothing for it but to do as he'd been ordered. As he'd told the DHS agent, his version of the conversation may not prove anything anyway. Discrepancies could be written off as problems with his recollection rather than proving outright that Don had not really met with the terrorist. He hoped.

He had barely started when he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. Checking the screen he wasn't surprised to see that the number was unlisted. "Eppes."

"_Is this call being monitored?"_

With Zuheen's message being played all over the news he'd expected this call. "No."

"_I want to meet."_ A location was provided before the call terminated.

Don put his phone away. As he stood he saw that Wachowski was waiting for him to explain the call. "Wrong number." Don told him, the call had been brief enough, and walked off. As he expected Wachowski came after him, even started to follow him into the men's room. Don rounded on the younger man.

"Back off!"

"Where you go, I go Agent Eppes." The DHA agent told him.

"I don't need your help in here." Don said pointedly looking at the stalls through the open door, his arm braced across the doorway.

Wachowski had the grace to look embarrassed before stepping back and taking up a position in the hall, arms crossed.

Don allowed the door to close and flipping the lid down took a seat in a stall, thinking furiously. _How the hell was he going to get out of here?_ With Wachowski assigned to watch him it was not a simple proposition. The junior DHS agent seemed determined to do his job properly. Don doubted he would be able to pull rank and get any other concessions from the man. _If you could call privacy in the men's room, a room with only one exit, a concession_. Don glanced at his watch to see that a minute had slipped away. He didn't have much time.

After running some water in the sink he couldn't resist the urge to splash some over his face. It was amazingly refreshing. He wiped his face dry with a paper towel before pushing the door open and stepping into the hall. Wachowski looked at him but Don didn't acknowledge his presence, just started walking for the lift. His luck was with him, the indicator showed that a car was waiting on this floor. He pressed the button and stepped in as the doors opened.

"Where are you going, Agent Eppes?"

Don pressed the button for the parking garage and stepped back, facing the doors. He found that the doors were being blocked by the other man. Don reached out without warning and grabbed Wachowski by the right arm, hauling him into the lift as he pressed the 'door close' button. "I'm going home. You either follow or stay here. You don't block my way. Understand?" Don said to the other agent as the lift descended.

Wachowski pulled his arm free, stepping back to give himself room. The abrupt move by his charge had startled him and he wasn't sure what the older man might do next. He kept a wary eye on the FBI agent as he pulled out his cell phone. He dialled and waited for the connection. The lift stopped its descent and the doors opened. He followed Eppes out into the garage as his phone beeped at him.

"No reception, huh?" Don said, hearing the tone. He managed to keep the relief out of his voice. It had been a risk yanking the man into the lift but it had paid off, he'd been banking on the lack of phone reception in the garage. He pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked his SUV as the other agent tried to dial out again.

"Stop."

Don ignored him, climbing into the driver's seat and starting his engine. He wound the window down. "I'm just going home. I'll be back soon."

"Stop!" The command was more desperate as the junior agent reached for his sidearm.

Don immediately raised his left hand pointing a warning finger out the window at Wachowski. His right hand curled around the grip of his own weapon. That was more a reflex than anything else, a response to the threat of another firearm. There was no way he could shoot the other man. Don used a different weapon, his lecture voice from back when he was teaching operational survival at Quantico. "Do not draw that weapon agent! You have no authority to do so. I am not under arrest and you have no valid reason to arrest me."

Wachowski froze, unsure of what he should do. He couldn't call for advice. He had to make a decision here and now. He thought back to his orders, to keep an eye on the FBI agent, nothing about detaining him or stopping him from leaving. His realised that his understanding that Eppes couldn't leave the building was implied, not directed. He also noted the way the FBI agent was sitting, upper body leaning slightly forward and to the left, right shoulder raised with the right elbow pressing into the seat back. From that he knew Eppes had his hand on his own weapon. This could go very bad, very quickly. Wachowski released his grip on his gun, moving his hand well away from his side, deciding that he wasn't prepared to draw down on a senior agent on an implication. His gaze lit upon the rows of car keys hanging up on the wall. Each with a label to identifying the FBI service vehicle they belonged to.

Don saw the younger man change his mind and recognised the direction of his gaze with relief. He let go of his Glock as the DHS agent headed for the key rack. Don reversed out of his spot and took off, he needed all the lead he could get if he was going to loose him. He pressed his tag to the sensor at the security gate and drove out onto the street. He hoped it would take Wachowski a moment or two to locate the tag on the key ring to the service vehicle before he would be able to leave the garage. His luck was with him as he made his first turn and saw the security gate was still down before he lost sight of the building. He didn't notice the headlights that pulled away from the curb half a block away and follow.

Not taking any chances that he'd evaded Wachowski Don steered a convoluted path designed to shake a tail. As he was looking for a following vehicle he thought he saw the same set of headlights a number of times but after several minutes it seemed he'd managed to loose them. He then promptly forgot all about them as he turned his thoughts towards the coming meeting with Telford.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: Valerie Vancollie, here is the answer to your question - the shirt comes off. . ._

CHAPTER TEN

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-&-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Colby and David sat waiting at the red traffic light. They were on their way to the mall with radio frequency detectors hopefully to find the terrorists camera frequencies. Megan had gone the other way with one of the techs, they were going to come at the mall from both sides so as to cover more area in less time. While they waited Colby glanced over at the white SUV stopped beside him. All thoughts of the days' events and their current mission went flying out of his mind. The bright lights at the intersection allowed him to see inside the other vehicle despite the closed windows. He recognised the driver.

The light went green and David started to drive off, accelerating faster than the white suburban. He had places to be and whilst he wasn't yet in enough of a hurry to use his lights and siren for priority travel, he wasn't going to dawdle either.

"Slow down." Colby ordered.

"What?"

"That was Telford."

"What!" After what the man had done to his boss eight months ago, and his recent re-emergence in New York, he wasn't likely to forget the name. David took his foot completely off the accelerator and looked wildly around. "Where? Are you sure?"

"Keep going, keep going." Colby insisted in time to stop David hitting the brakes. "Not so fast, steady."

David obeyed, easing his foot back onto the gas to maintain their speed. "Where is he?"

"Steady. Don't look now but he is in that SUV just passing us."

David kept his gaze riveted forwards, using only his peripheral vision to try to see into the SUV that was slowing passing them on the right. He allowed his speed to drop a little more until he could slip in behind the other vehicle. "Are you sure?" He repeated.

"It was Telford." Colby stated. He was definite. "I pulled the sketches the other day after Don told us Telford had been active again."

"But he's in New York."

"No, he's in that SUV."

David licked his lips, looking around at the surrounding traffic. Not very heavy, but that would be expected at this time of night. "There's no time to call back-up. At the next set of lights we take him."

They both took off their seatbelts, David undid the thumbreak on his holster and loosened his gun as Colby drew his. They didn't have long to wait, they were already slowing at another red light. David pulled to a stop close in behind the white suburban, hemming their target in. There was another vehicle stopped in front of the SUV completing the improvised trap.

"Let's do this." Colby said.

Simultaneously they flung open their doors, sliding out and running forwards, crouching down to minimise their profiles if they'd been detected. As one they then popped up, one on each side of the SUV's front doors, guns aimed through the closed windows at the driver.

"FBI. Freeze!" David yelled. From his position on the drivers side he had a clear view of the man and was also convinced it was Telford. He thought saw the man's mouth move as if he as saying something. Through the glass David couldn't hear the word 'hold'.

Bearing in mind everything that Don had said about the man, David knew he had to act fast. He pulled his gun back and smashed it against the window as hard as he could. If it worked it would be quicker than trying to open the probably locked driver's door and would provide a further distraction to prevent Telford reacting. He was lucky, the glass broke on the first strike. In a reflex action Telford twisted over sideways and turned his head away from the flying glass.

David pressed his gun against the side of Telford's head. "Don't move or I will shoot." He ordered clearly as he reached over and took the keys from the ignition. He pressed the unlock button on the remote, hearing the locks pop open. The SUV's doors had been locked, if he'd tried to open the door instead of smashing the window Telford could have got away.

Colby pulled open the passenger side door and climbed up onto the passenger seat, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the other side of Telford's head. Telford had frozen, leaning half over onto his right side. It was a dangerous cross fire situation but it was Colby's only angle. "I got him."

David pulled back and opened the driver's door. "Hands! Let me see your hands."

Telford's right arm had been bracing him on the center console as his angle put him past his centre of gravity. He initially didn't move, staring at David until Colby's gun jabbed forcefully against the side of his head. He slowly pushed with his right hand until he was sitting back upright. He raised his arms, slowly and carefully, until he clasped his hands behind his head. Colby moved with him, keeping his gun in place.

David pressed his gun into Telford's chest, keeping himself as low as possible so that he was no longer in the line of fire from Colby's gun. He roughly searched Telford, recovering a gun from a shoulder holster. He pressed the magazine release then hooked the rear sight on the inside doorhandle of the driver's door, pushing downwards rapidly to force the slide back and eject the round from the breech. He then allowed the empty gun to drop into the foot well to land under the pedals.

David then grabbed Telford by the front of his shirt and jacket, hauling him roughly from the SUV and down onto the roadway. Colby slid rapidly across and jumped out after him, landing on the road then kneeling on Telford's back an instant later. Telford was a cop killer and not entitled to gentle handling.

The whole thing had taken only seconds. No more was said until a minute or two later when Telford had been handcuffed, pulled to his feet and more thoroughly searched. David found a knife in a pouch on the back of Telford's belt which he also tossed into the driver's footwell until the search was finished.

"You got him?" David asked.

Colby kicked Telford's feet further apart and leaned his weight against his captive's back pressing the man tightly up against the side of the SUV, gun against the back of his head. He was taking no chances and giving Telford no opportunities despite him being surprisingly passive, not making any show of resistance. "Yeah."

David stepped back and opened up the wallet he'd pulled from Telford's back pocket. The contents were sparse, a little cash, a credit card and a California driver licence. David tilted the card so he could better see the picture and name under the streetlights. James Telford. The photo matched. It wasn't conclusive, in fact it was anything but as the name and licence were most probably fakes. However with the match to Don's sketches and unlawful possession of the gun, no licence for that in the wallet, it was enough to hold him on probable cause for now.

"You're under arrest Telford." David then read the man his rights, asking if he understood them.

"I understand, Special Agent Sinclair." Telford said calmly.

David was initially startled that Telford recognised him but then thought that with the obvious research the man had done on Don eight months ago it only stood to reason that he'd learnt about Don's team as well. He smiled, looking at Colby who smiled right back. They both realised that Telford's comment was final confirmation that they indeed had the right man.

David then collected the gun and knife from the foot well of the SUV. He made a quick search of the front of Telford's vehicle but saw that it was clean, nothing in the centre console, door pockets or glove box.

David climbed back out and helped Colby put Telford into the back seat of their SUV. He put the seat belt on over their prisoner and pushed him forwards so his chest was resting on his knees. Colby sat in beside him, keeping pressure on Telford's back. It would be near impossible for Telford to resist now. He holstered his gun.

David activated the red and blue lights on their SUV as the traffic light had since turned green and they were blocking what little traffic there was. He went back to the white SUV and started it up, pulling it over to the side of the road and onto the footpath so it was out of the traffic. After a quick and fruitless look in the back of the vehicle he locked it up then jumped back into their SUV. As he pulled away he flipped open his phone and called in to control, requesting LAPD attend to guard the SUV until a tow could be arranged. He also advised he was returning with a prisoner.

He knew they should have stayed and waited but getting Telford back and secured was more important. He'd already searched the white suburban and had written it off as non-significant. Towing it was just a matter of procedure. He made a second call to Megan telling her of their windfall.

Neither he nor Colby noticed the car abruptly pull out of the flow of traffic behind them and stop beside the white SUV. They also didn't notice the dark suburban parked in the shadows under the freeway overpass a short distance up the road.

-100-1111-1110-

Don finally pulled to a stop deep in the shadows under a freeway overpass, the designated meeting spot. There was no-one there. He went back over the conversation replaying Telford's words in his mind and confirmed that he was at the correct spot. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it as if by doing so he could make it ring. He scrolled back, checking the last incoming call and as he'd seen when he answered it, there was no caller ID. He couldn't call it back.

Don was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. After the stunt he'd just pulled he suspected he would probably be arrested by Barnathan when he got back to the FBI building. House arrest at the very least, the senior DHS agent had already hinted at that option. Barnathan had given him some rope and he'd just hung himself. He would not be able to get away a second time. He sat, barely noting the passing traffic, a few cars and a dark SUV, worrying what could be keeping Telford. He wondered just how long he should wait. The people at the mall couldn't afford for Telford to think Don had disobeyed an order.

After another fifteen minutes that felt like an eternity he couldn't wait any longer. He'd already refused to accept a number of calls to his cell from the office. They would soon be sending out a BOLO for him and it wouldn't be long before he was found. He would be unable to explain why he was sitting under a freeway overpass. He finally drove off, keeping watch for as long as he could in his rear view mirror in case Telford showed up.

Don went home, stopping briefly along the way, trying to provide himself with a cover on the off chance he would be able to bluff his way out of trouble. Pulling into his space at his apartment block he found several DHS agents, including Wachowski waiting for him. They didn't look happy.

"Where have you been?" Wachowski demanded, opening the door to Don's SUV.

Don reached over into the passenger foot well and pulled out a plastic bag. Wachowski all but snatched it from him and opened it. Don climbed out of his SUV and closed the door behind him, locking it. "If you don't mind." He said, reaching out for the bag.

"Shopping takes you that long?" The younger man demanded suspiciously, searching through the bag's contents.

"It does when you want to take your mind off things." Don said. He'd made sure that the bag didn't contain a receipt before he'd left the store. The time and location of the purchase could have caused him trouble. The bag also had no store logo on it so he was not tied to a specific place.

"Where did you go?"

"I think your boss would be more interested in the fact that you lost me rather than where I went shopping." Don had had enough of the twenty questions. He took hold of his bag of purchases and gave a slight tug.

Wachowski released his grip and followed close on Don's heels as he went up to his apartment. Don tried to bar the younger man at the door but this time it wasn't going to work.

"Either we come in with you or you come back with us now." Wachowski said. He had clarified his orders and was confident of what he could do. He also had the two other agents to back him up both physically and psychologically.

Don knew he was beaten on this issue and allowed the three men to follow him in. He put the milk and juice into the fridge, alongside the full milk carton that was already there. The other items he left on the bench top. The groceries had been pure window dressing. The food also reminded him that it had been a long time since he'd last eaten at breakfast. The crawling pain in his stomach that had been steadily increasing in intensity over the last couple of hours however was not related to hunger, it was the result of the adrenalin dumps earlier in the day. The last thing he felt like was food.

He also didn't want to be stuffing around in his apartment but he was here now and had to play it out. He walked down his hall to his bedroom, pulling off his coat, sweater and tie as he went. He threw the clothing onto the bed as he started undoing his shirt buttons and turned to find Wachowski standing at the door. He opened his mouth to say something in outrage but saw that the younger man was staring at his midriff.

Don looked down. He'd forgotten all about that. There was a blood stain down the front of his shirt and dried blood on his skin. He touched the small wound, the edges sealed together by dried blood.

"That looks fresh." Wachowski commented. "When did that happen?"

Don pulled his shirt off, flinging it to join the other items of clothing on his bed. "Earlier today."

"A terrorist do that?"

"Yeah." No reason to deny it.

"Why?"

"To prove a point." It was not something Don really wanted to speak about. Telford had indeed proven the point and Don still felt under as much threat now as he had back in the mall, the knife poised to end his life. The reminder of Telford also served to remind him of the failed meeting. His stress level rose as he again worried what might have happened to make Telford fail to arrive at their meet.

To hide his expression while he tried to get his game face back on Don busied himself in his wardrobe, selecting a clean shirt and another sweater. His face now schooled he found himself actually wanting a shower. He collected a pair of jeans and brushed past the younger agent and went to his small bathroom. Putting his clean clothes down he turned to close the door only to find Wachowski all but leaning on the door frame.

"I don't know you well enough to shower with you." Don told the younger man.

Wachowski brushed the comment aside as he'd been physically brushed aside moments earlier. He stepped into the bathroom and checked for exits. He even pushed on the window but found that it was fixed in place, not designed to open. He stepped back. "Enjoy yourself. You have five minutes." The young agent said as he closed the door.

Don was furious but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd not been arrested but that was only a matter of semantics. To all intents and purposes he no longer had any freedom. He finished undressing, placing his holster and badge up on the glass shelf under the mirror. They couldn't help him either. The cell phone remained stubbornly silent.

The shower turned out to be pure heaven, the hot water helping to temporarily wash away the emotion of the day. The shower was a place he could always relax and he needed that more than ever just now. He'd turned the taps on all the way so that needles of steaming hot water beat down on his head and back. His breathing slowed along with his heart rate as he stood with his eyes closed in the cubicle. For the first time that day he finally felt calm. But it couldn't last, almost right on cue there was a knock on the bathroom door. His five minutes were up. Sighing, he rapidly finished up and reluctantly turned the water off. He almost couldn't see for the steam so he turned the extractor fan on as he dried off. Another knock came at the door as he finished dressing, sliding his badge onto his belt.

He flung open the door and almost walked into Wachowski. He continued moving, forcing the other man out of his way. Just because he had to put up with the invasion of his privacy didn't mean he had to make it any easier for them. Taking as long as he dared to get ready, another five minutes passed before he was shrugging his long coat back on. He reached for his keys but Wachowski held them out of his reach.

"This time I drive."

Don shrugged. "Hey, knock yourself out. I could do with the break."

Don sat in the passenger seat and placed his phone into the hands-free holder to recharge it. He couldn't afford to have it go flat. He leaned back, trying to take the opportunity to get some rest as Wachowski drove; the other two agents were following in their own vehicle. It had, after all, been a very long day. His eyes were closed but his mind would not stop. It seemed he'd been partially successful on his bluff but how well that would serve him was yet to be seen. It still didn't answer the fundamental question: _Where was Telford?_

The trip back to the office took far less time than normal, Wachowski not paying any attention to road rules, particularly the speed limit. Easy enough to do with the light traffic at this hour. The one time they were challenged by the LAPD Wachowski simply flicked on Don's emergency lights and the LAPD unit backed off. Don settled back until he felt them start to descend. Opening his eyes he saw that they were under the FBI building, going down the levels to his space.

A short time later Don was walking out of the lift with his escort and was confronted by Barnathan.

"What was that about Eppes?"

"It wasn't about anything." Don replied tiredly. "I needed a break."

"You're restricted to this floor until further notice." Barnathan ordered. He turned to his men. "You two remain here. Wachowski, you stick to Eppes like glue. Clear?"

"Yes sir." Wachowski acknowledged.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

-100-1111-1110-

During the exchange with Barnathan Don had seen Megan standing nearby, her stance indicating to him that she wanted to see him. As the senior DHS agent walked away Don followed Megan into the conference room that his team seemed to have adopted.

"Meet Agent Wachowski." Don said as the man in question followed him in before taking up a position inside by the door. "You know I shouldn't be talking to you."

"I know, but we've got some good news for you, Don." Megan started, barely giving the DHS agent a glance.

"Zuheen's been found?"

"No, nothing to do with this mess. It's Telford."

Don went cold. _They didn't know, they couldn't know. How could they have any news about Telford?_ The thoughts raced through his mind before he could stop them. 'Nothing to do with this mess', Megan had said.

Megan mistook his silence for recollection. Despite Don's protestations of being unaffected of the events from all those months ago she knew he had faced some demons. "We got him."

"Got him?" Don questioned with some relief. It would explain why he hadn't turned up at the meet. "Where? How?"

"Colby and David went out to, ah, um," Megan paused for a moment. She was not used to keeping secrets from her boss. "They went on a tasking and saw Telford driving past. It was one of those one-in-a-million flukes."

Don was amazed that Telford had allowed himself to be caught. He then realised that Telford wouldn't be too worried about that. He would rely on Don to get him out. A weight descended on his shoulders, his stomach cramped painfully and his vision dimmed. He fought not to double up and grab at his waist.

"Don?" Megan asked with concern. "Are you alright?"

It took a deep breath before he could answer. "Yeah, just surprised. I wasn't expecting that. Where is he?"

"Here, in interrogation room one."

"Has he said anything yet?" Don looked through the glass walls of the conference room and saw Granger and Sinclair waiting outside the door to the interrogation room. The same one he'd been spending time in recently being grilled by Barnathan.

"Not a word. We were about to take him down to booking when I heard you were on your way back." Her gaze moved to Wachowski still standing against the wall inside the door.

Wachowski took that as an invitation to join the conversation. "Who is this Telford?"

"It's from another case." Megan told him. "A murderer who's killed at least three agents over the last few years. He also kidnapped Don."

Don started for the door. "I want to talk to him."

"Do you think that's wise?" Wachowski asked.

"Let him go." Megan said before Don could speak. She then quickly filled Wachowski in on the situation as they followed him across the office.

Don didn't stop as per protocol, he went straight up to the door and let himself into the interview room. He didn't know what else he could do and hoped that no-one would be hurt. His weapon was still in the holster at his belt.

Telford was sitting patiently as if without a care in the world, shackled hands resting on the desk. "We meet again."

"Yes." Don said. He was all too aware of all the monitors in the room and couldn't think of what else to say for the moment.

"I need to make a phone call." Telford said calmly but pointedly.

Don knew that the call would not be to a lawyer, it would be to his employer. The call would determine if a bomb was detonated. "You'll get your phone call." Don's message was clear. He would cooperate. He caught the other man's eye then glanced slowly down to his right, as he turned slightly presenting his right side allowing his coat to open. He looked back up to see that Telford had correctly interpreted Don's meaning, his gaze resting briefly on the agent's holstered weapon before lifting.

"What are the charges?" Telford seemed prepared to play along. He could have demanded the gun and Don would have had no choice but to hand it over. But that would have ended Don's usefulness, exposing Telford and revealing the whole deception. No one would believe that Telford was working for the real Zuheen.

"You're going to be charged with the murder of three federal agents, the murder of three federal witnesses and two counts of kidnapping of a federal agent." Don said stepping into range. His tone aggressive, he had to make this look good. "How's that for starters?"

Telford stood. "Sounds like you're going to try to fit me up good and proper. But you forgot one thing, agent."

"Oh yeah?" Don stepped closer, deliberately leaving himself exposed. "What would that be?"

"Procedure." Telford said.

Despite expecting the move, _hell, he had made it possible_, Don was still startled when Telford lunged at his waist. Don made an intentionally ineffectual blocking move and thus failed to prevent Telford's hands wrapping around the butt of his Glock. An adrenalin charged heart beat later the weapon had been drawn and the muzzle was pressing deeply into the hollow of his throat. Don realised that even without his complicity Telford would have stood a real chance at succeeding at such a manoeuvre.

"Never bring a gun into a room with a desperate man." Telford finished as the door crashed open. He didn't sound desperate, just his usual calm self.

Don was positioned with his back to the door but he didn't need to see to know that Granger and Sinclair were there, guns drawn. "Everybody, keep cool." Don said.

"Unlock these cuffs." Telford ordered.

Don fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the cuffs around Telford's wrists. Don was very careful not to jostle the gun that was still pressing firmly into his neck. He tossed the cuffs over onto the table before automatically putting the keys back into his pocket.

"Back." Telford ordered, shoving Don with the gun causing him to take a step backwards towards the door. Telford looked past Don at the other agents. "Back."

Don turned his head trying to see his team. Then, before he realised what had happened, Telford had pushed his left shoulder back with his gun hand and had pulled his right shoulder with his other hand. The result was that Don was very quickly spun on the spot, ending up with Telford's left arm around his neck. Don was pulled firmly against Telford's body as a shield. Don's hands automatically went to Telford's forearm, applying pressure downwards to protect his airway. Telford was now pressing the gun into the side of Don's neck just under his right ear. Don felt it was no accident that the muzzle was jabbing painfully on the sensitive nerve located there. It was a pressure point often used by police officers for pain compliance.

As Don winced he saw his team facing him, each with their weapon drawn and pointed at him. At least that's how it appeared to his perspective as Telford was sheltering directly behind him making a shot impossible. Wachowski had joined the FBI agents, but was just as unable to act as they were.

"Put your weapons up." Telford demanded. "There is no need to make more of a fuss than there's been already."

For the moment it appeared that no one else was aware of this little drama being played out on this corner of the floor. The MIR was on the far side away from them and that's where all the activity was centred.

"Tell them." Telford hissed into Don's ear as nobody moved.

"Do as he says guys. He's got nothing to lose." Don instructed. They knew Telford's history. He screwed his eyes shut briefly, breath hissing through his teeth as Telford pressed sharply with the gun on the nerve under his ear. The pain compliance technique was being used against his team.

Megan moved first, dropping her aim before showing her palms. She glanced at her colleagues as she holstered her gun. David and Colby followed suit, trusting Megan's judgement. Wachowski hesitated the longest.

"We get into a fire fight and he'll kill Don. You know what's at stake." Megan told the junior agent reminding him of the bigger picture. "Put your weapon away."

The DHS agent finally put away his gun. He stood back with the others as Telford started moving towards the lift, holding his hostage tightly. Telford suddenly changed course when he saw the two DHS agents on guard duty before they spotted what was happening. They stopped instead at the door to the stairs. They'd moved only a few yards and were still in sight of the interrogation room. "No alarms. Any attempt to stop me and I'll kill your boss."

"How do we know you'll let him go once you're out?" Granger asked taking a small step forward. His gun was holstered but his hand was firmly around the grip.

"You don't. But you know I won't hesitate to kill him if I'm left with no choice. Another dead agent won't cause me any bother."

Don felt the steady pressure of the gun against his neck. His intimate contact with Telford's body told him of the man's confidence. "Stand down, Colby." Don ordered. He didn't want any of his team hurt.

Just at that moment a familiar head appeared around the corner, the dark curly hair framing a puzzled expression, mouth opening to speak. Don knew he had no time, Charlie was now at risk. Without instruction he reached out his left hand and opened the door making it possible for Telford to drag him into the stairwell. As the door swung shut he saw Megan's slight frown and measuring gaze. He realised she suspected something was amiss. The last thing he saw was Charlie, his mouth closing on his brother's unspoken name.

Out of the view of an audience Telford released his hold on the FBI agent, giving him a slight shove down the first flight of stairs. Don moved, leading the way downwards, rubbing gently at his sore neck. He passed the door to the lobby, but stopped at a word from Telford. He turned to find Telford hiding the gun at the rear of his waistband.

"Good work, Eppes." Telford congratulated him. "Now we will just walk out, two agents on a job."

Don glared at the man. It was all he could do to not smash his fist into that smug expression. "It won't work, they will be waiting for us."

"I don't think so. Your team will hold off a little longer, I think, before they come after us."

"Maybe they will, but not Wachowski."

"Your DHS guard. I believe your team has him under control for now."

Don stared at Telford. That was a slip. _How could Telford possibly know that Wachowski, by name, was his guard?_ He had always thought that there was someone else on the inside, inside the FBI, passing on information to Telford. Now he knew that someone had to be there on the same floor as the MIR, closely involved in the operation. There was no other explanation. It was now specific, Don had a starting point to find Telford's source.

"Let's go, agent." Telford waved Don to the door.

Don opened the door cautiously and peeked out through the crack before opening the door fully and walking out purposefully. There had been no obvious signs of trouble. Telford had been right. Don continued walking directly across the lobby to the exit, Telford close beside him. He realised that they did look the part of a pair of agents heading out to an assignment. His empty holster was hidden by the coat he hadn't had time to remove before letting Telford jump him. Despite the late hour the lobby was a hive of activity and no one paid them any attention as they left.

---

_**A/N:** Oh, boy..._


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER TWELVE

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

Charlie turned the corner leading to the interrogation room. He'd heard that the mysterious Telford had been brought in by Colby and David and he wanted to see the man for himself. The man that had almost killed his brother eight months ago.

_What is everyone doing in the corridor?_ He wondered. He stopped suddenly as he realised what he was seeing. Don was being held with a gun to his head by a man standing behind him. They were near the door to the stairs, not in the interrogation room. Charlie was surprised to see that although the rest of the team were there, along with the DHS agent, none of them had a gun out. He observed however, that they each had their hands wrapped tightly around the butts of the holstered guns. It seemed that no one had raised the alarm, perhaps he should?

Charlie started to turn, to grab the nearest agent who was only a few yards away and out of sight of the corridor when he saw Don's eyes on him. Charlie hesitated, his mouth opening to say his brother's name. He saw Don reach back and open the door to the stairs, a moment later and he was gone. Colby started for the door but Megan stopped him. The team then turned and saw Charlie staring at them.

"Was that-?" Charlie started as Megan reached him. He received a nod. "You have to go after them. He'll kill Don!"

"Steady Charlie." Megan soothed, taking his arm and turning him around. "We can't go straight after them, he has Don's gun. We're going to the security office. We'll monitor them from there and move in as soon as we can."

The team headed off, Charlie following. He saw the DHS agent angle off saying something about reporting in to someone. Charlie didn't get the name, he didn't really care what the DHS agent did.

Charlie joined the team in the lift and they descended to the first floor. He followed as they entered the building's security office. Charlie stopped just inside the door, amazed at the banks of monitors showing virtually every space in, and access points to, the building. There were also views outside the building showing the street and footpath. He'd always known that the building had excellent surveillance, had worked on footage from the bull pen when it had been shot up, but he had not expected quite this much. He knew that Larry would be horrified.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts and saw that Megan had grabbed a woman sitting at the supervisor's desk and was talking urgently into her ear. The main central monitor flashed to a view of the stair well. The number on the wall indicated it was on the level they'd last seen Don. Empty. The security supervisor switched to the next camera one floor below and then the next and the next until they finally saw Don and Telford standing next to the door leading out to the lobby, one floor below their current position. It was obvious that the two men were having a conversation. Telford's hands were also empty, they couldn't see the gun.

"Do we have sound?" Megan asked.

"No, vision only." The supervisor replied.

Don opened the door and they walked out of the stairwell. The supervisor changed the view again enabling them to continue watching as the two men quickly walked across the lobby and out the doors, Don showing no outward sign that he was under duress. The lighting outside allowed them to see which way they turned before the operator switched to an external camera.

"Let's go." Megan ordered, grabbing a hand held radio from a set charging on a stand near the door. "Charlie, stay here."

The team had barely left the security office when Charlie was forced to move aside to allow the entry of the senior DHS agent, the same agent he'd seen upstairs earlier but hadn't heard his name, and ADIC Merrick with Don's guard bringing up the rear.

"Who's after them?" The senior DHS agent demanded.

"Agents Reeves, Sinclair and Granger." The supervisor answered.

"Unacceptable." The DHS agent turned to Merrick.

"From what your agent said the offender is a man named Telford." Merrick said. "Agent Eppes' team are familiar with him and are our best hope of getting Agent Eppes back in one piece."

The DHS agent wasn't mollified. "Wachowski, take Nielson and Waters and get after them. We must get Eppes back alive."

The younger DHS agent ran from the room. Despite the senior agent's words, Charlie felt that he didn't really care for Don, per se, but needed him for the connection to the terrorist. He chided himself for the unfair thought, Don was a fellow agent in trouble, of course they cared.

"_Reeves to security."_ Megan's voice came over a radio speaker mounted under the supervisor's desk.

"Security." The supervisor answered the call herself.

"_We're exiting the building now. Do you still have a visual?"_

"Negative. They've left the range of the camera turning left."

"_Received. Reeves, clear."_

Charlie had let his attention get distracted, he hadn't seen Don disappear around the corner, had missed his chance to have a last look at his brother before the cameras were no longer useful. He saw the team appear on the monitor and disappear around the corner, following his brother's trail.

Merrick tapped the operator on her shoulder. "Show us the interior view of interrogation one, with sound. I want to see how this happened."

The operator checked the time she'd noted on her duty sheet when the team had first come into the office. She changed cameras then scrolled back about ten minutes. The full colour image showed Telford sitting alone in the room. She fast forwarded briefly until they saw Don enter. The vision resumed normal speed allowing them to follow the conversation. They watched in silence as Don was disarmed by Telford who then forced his way from the room holding the agent as his hostage. The operator switched to one of the four cameras in the bull pen, this one black and white without sound. Charlie saw the obvious pain his brother was in when Telford pressed the gun firmly into his neck and winced in sympathy. They watched the action as it moved to the edge of the screen and stopped at the stair well door. He shook his head, _what else could go wrong for Don today?_

"What was your agent doing with a firearm in that room with a suspect?" The senior DHS agent demanded.

"I'll take that up with him when we get him back." Merrick sounded just as angry.

For his part Charlie thought he had an idea how it must have happened. Although he knew his brother was very careful he also knew that he was under a lot of strain at the moment. The weapon was such a part of Don, worn so often and for so long that he would barely notice its presence. Don would feel naked without it. With everything else going on he figured his older brother had just plain forgotten to take his gun off and store it in the weapons locker mounted outside the room. A mistake that could now cost him his life.

Charlie had heard some of what Telford had done, both to Don and to other agents. He'd offered to help but Don had refused to let him get involved, had refused to discuss the matter further. He now regretted not pushing Don, not following up with the team. If he had done something, had been able to go over what data they had he might have been able to lead them to Telford sooner. Then Don would not be out there now, his own gun held against him.

-100-1111-1110-

Don and Telford were half way down an alley, a few minutes brisk walk from the field office. There were no lights in the narrow access road but the wash from the nearby streetlight was enough to see by. Don stopped and turned on the other man. "You're out. Why did you want to meet me?"

"They are running a secondary investigation. All efforts should be on finding Zuheen, not wasting time trying to find an alternate bomber."

Don had been right. He remembered his conversation with Barnathan, remembered thinking that the agents sent out on taskings had been getting negative results, that the investigation might be moving off track as a result. "I've got no control over what they do." Don told Telford. "I told you that would happen."

"And you haven't been out of the building since you got here. You need to be seen."

"Is that the real reason you wanted me to meet you outside?" Don suddenly remembered the set of headlights that had followed him for a short distance after he'd left the building. At the time he'd thought it was possibly Wachowski and had shaken him off. "There was a car tailing me."

"Tell me."

Don told him. He realised he'd had no indication from Wachowski or Barnathan that the tail had been theirs. The only other option aside from the terrorist was Telford or one of his men. "It wasn't you?"

"No." Telford pressed him for details but he had no more. "We need you outside again."

"You think that was Zuheen?"

"It could have been." Telford mused. "I suspect you wouldn't have seen the television. They have been constantly broadcasting about the mall along with replaying the press conference, attributing it all to Zuheen as we planned. Plus there is the press release from Zuheen himself. Now is the time to step up the pressure. We'll give the media some more material, see if we can get Zuheen to expose himself. We need you to be outside."

"How am I supposed to do that?" He waved his hand in the general direction of the FBI building. "They don't trust me at all. I'm under house arrest as it is. Who knows what will happen to me after this little effort. I can't do anything."

"You are no good to us locked up." Telford said.

"Yeah, well you put me in this position. You let yourself be caught." Of that Don was sure. "Why?"

"Your team are quite good. But then, they have you as their leader. It's not often someone gets the drop on me."

So it hadn't been planned. Don was a bit surprised by that and proud of his team for catching him. David and Colby were good but Don grudgingly admitted that Telford was probably better. He was certainly less constrained in how far he would go, had amply demonstrated that in the past. "There's more to it, you could have got away."

"Yes, but that would have meant killing Granger and Sinclair."

It was hard but Don had to ask. "So? You've killed agents before."

"Yes, but not your agents. There was a real risk that I would have lost you if I killed them." Telford looked at him shrewdly. "I know some of the lengths you will go to in order to protect your own. I can only imagine the lengths you would go to trying to catch someone who'd killed your agents."

Don's eyes narrowed. That was another slip, more confirmation that someone inside the FBI was keeping a close eye on Don, and had been for some time now, to have known about his actions when Megan had been kidnapped. Don had no misconception that that was the incident Telford was referring to. He and Edgerton had been given a dressing down by Merrick afterwards but that was as far as it had gone. "So you figured you'd leave it to me to get you out."

"I knew I could rely on you."

Don gritted his teeth, his fists unconsciously clenching at his helpless position. Telford just couldn't help but rub it in. "So what now? I just wander back in and say you let me go?"

"Not exactly." Telford pulled Don's gun from his belt. "Now I let them find you. You just see to it that they don't connect me to this."

Don didn't have time to wonder what was going to happen next, he barely even saw it coming. Telford suddenly raised his gun hand and smashed Don across the side of the head with the weapon. Don fell but wasn't completely unconscious. Telford knelt beside him as he struggled to sit up. "We will be calling. Make sure you're available." Don didn't see the next blow, he was just aware of a sudden crushing darkness before there was nothing.

_A/N: Sorry Don…_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: Thanks for all the comments. Glad to see I am keeping people guessing. There are some more surprises to come._

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

-10100-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

Megan shoved the radio into a pocket as the three agents ran down the sidewalk, weapons drawn. They soon reached the corner around which Don and his captor had disappeared. They slowed and peered cautiously around the edge of the building before proceeding. Now they had to do it the old fashioned way, clearing each shadowy building entrance and alley, checking behind parked cars and other possible hiding places before moving on. It was slow going.

They really had no idea which way their quarry would have gone so they took the path of least resistance, straight ahead. Colby was on point when they reached an alley another block over. He took a quick peek around the edge of the building, pulling his head back as he processed what he had seen. His military training had allowed him to rapidly pick out the still form of a man lying halfway down. The man wasn't moving.

The tactical position wasn't good. Although the alley wasn't really all that dark it was significantly darker than the sidewalk which meant that they would be silhouetted against the street when they entered. Despite not seeing anyone else in the alley there was nothing to discount the possibility of an ambush. If someone was lying in wait then he had the advantage. There was also a distinct lack of cover, none of those handy dumpsters or piles of boxes seen in all the popular television shows. There were just the lower sections of fire escapes and some darker shadows suggesting entrances to the adjacent buildings.

Colby risked another look. He again saw the still form of a man on the ground. The dim light didn't allow him to determine if it was his boss but the sinking feeling in his gut told him it was.

"There's a man down, about twenty yards in." Colby briefed the others. "I can't see anyone else."

"Is it Don?" Megan asked.

"Can't tell. He's not moving." Colby added.

Megan pulled out her radio. "Reeves to security."

"_Security."_ The voice was faint as Megan had the volume turned right down.

Megan gave their location, naming the building in front of which they were standing. "Roll paramedics, we have a man down, unknown ID or injuries. Show us proceeding into the alley."

"_Received. Calling EMTs. Good luck."_

The radio went back into her pocket as the team exchanged glances. They were ready.

"Careful. There's no cover in there."

"Alright." Megan said. "When we move you lead and David will take the far side. I'll follow you in."

The entry to the alley would have made the instructors at Quantico proud. As Colby, after a last cautious peek, ran crouched around the corner followed a moment later by Megan, David raced straight across to the corner of the opposite building. He was the most exposed at that time but as a moving target he had some protection. He also served as a distraction by being more visible than his team mates making it more likely for a waiting attacker to see him not the others. David took up a position crouched at the base of the building, peering from that cover into the alley. He remained in place, gun up and tracking his line of vision as he searched the area he could see, ready to lay down covering fire if needed.

Meanwhile Colby and Megan made their way rapidly down the left wall, hunched over to present smaller profiles. They checked the one doorway they passed, relying on David to ensure the fire escapes above them were clear. They made it to a spot a few feet from the prone figure.

Now that they were closer they were able to recognise the coat along with the head of dark short hair. It was Don. He was lying on his back, way too still. It wasn't possible to see if he was breathing.

Megan was the first to break away from the inevitable thought. She carefully moved out towards their boss after touching Colby on the shoulder to let him know what she was doing. When she reached Don she reached out and gently laid her fingers on the side of his neck. The strong steady pulse flooded her with relief.

"He's alive." She whispered.

Colby waved at David, indicating for him to join them. He then kept a wary watch as David helped Megan tend to their boss, rolling him into the side stable position and checking for wounds. There were no easily visible injuries, no obvious gun shot wounds but in the dim alley it was possible to miss something. They hadn't had time to grab flashlights, not that they would shine them around anyway given that they hadn't yet cleared the area. Megan used her radio to call in a sit-rep and repeated the demand for EMTs. She also requested a BOLO for Telford be given to both their agents in the field and the LAPD. There was nothing now they could do other than wait and monitor Don's unconscious form.

Colby suddenly snapped around, gun tracking his eyes as he heard movement from the entrance to the alley. He abruptly jerked his weapon to one side as he realised the man in the lead was Don's DHS guard. He was followed by two other DHS agents, the three men running to their position, guns also out and ready. Colby watched them come before turning his attention back to his duty, covering the uncleared part of the alley.

Megan and David lowered their own weapons as the other agents reached them. Megan addressed herself to Wachowski. "We've cleared the alley this far. Make a sweep down there to be sure Telford's not hiding nearby."

Wachowski waved his companions on before stepping closer and looking down at the unconscious agent. "How is he?"

Megan realised that the DHS agent didn't have a radio and wouldn't have heard her report. "He's alive. We're waiting on the EMTs. We haven't seen any sign of Telford."

Wachowski pulled out his cell phone with his spare hand, pressing a speed dial button. "We've found Special Agent Eppes. … You've heard? … Yes, sir."

"What?" Megan demanded as the cell was tucked away.

"I'm to stay with him. If the EMTs clear him then we're to take him straight back to the field office."

Megan stared at him. She was starting to dislike the lack of care the DHS was showing to her boss. Sure he was in the middle of everything and had been hiding things from them, but it wasn't by choice. She knew Don, knew that he wouldn't willingly be a party to the terrorist's plot. The DHS were making life as difficult as possible for him. She decided she didn't want Wachowski standing over them. "Go wait for the EMTs."

Wachowski didn't move. "I have to stay with him." His gun hand moved briefly, towards the prone agent. It wasn't a threat, it was just the hand he unconsciously gestured with.

"I'll go." David offered. He could see there was no percentage to be gained arguing over the point. The DHS agent wasn't going to move and the EMTs needed to be flagged down to ensure they came to the right spot.

It felt like forever but the paramedics finally arrived a minute or two after Don had started to revive.

-100-1111-1110-

The first thing Don became aware of was the flash of a brilliant light in his left eye, followed almost immediately by another flash in his right eye. Blinking away the after images he finally saw the concerned faces of his team. He also saw the paramedic fussing over him, checking his vitals before probing at the side of his head. He realised he was lying on a gurney in the back of an ambulance.

"Hey!" Don protested when the man hit a particularly tender spot, knocking his hand away. "Ouch!"

"What happened?" Megan asked.

"He hit me over the head with my gun." Don answered her, stating the obvious. He kept a wary eye on the paramedic as he protectively put his own hand on the side of his head. "Did he get away?"

Megan frowned. Don's phrasing of the question was interesting, what he should have asked was _'did you catch him?'_. Her psychology training suggested that Don wanted Telford to get away. It didn't make any sense, but then neither did a few things that had just happened. "Yes. LAPD have got the description but with all their spare units tied up at the mall-." She shrugged.

Don correctly interpreted the shrug. "They're not going to be able to look for him." He said, trying to sound upset instead of relieved. He tried to look at his watch but the monitor attached to his hand made it difficult. "How long was I out?"

"About ten minutes or so. Looks like we just missed him."

Don tried sitting up. He managed it with his head starting to throb. There was no nausea, the usual side effect of being struck on the head, the painful cramping of his stomach took care of that. He pulled the monitor off his hand, ignoring the protest from the paramedic. Don saw that they were still at the alley, Granger and Sinclair had gone back in and along with some other agents, were shining flashlights around at the spot where he remembered standing with Telford, where they would have found him.

"Sir, you should let us take you to the hospital to be checked out. You were knocked unconscious, there could be serious complications." The paramedic said, but sounded like he already knew it was a lost cause.

"No, I'm fine." Don insisted. "Just a headache. Can you give me something for that?"

The paramedic reluctantly opened a locker and pulled out a couple of over-the-counter paracetamol tablets. "Here. If you get blurred vision, dizziness or nausea you are to go straight to the hospital." He directed his instructions to Don and Megan equally. It looked like he thought that Megan would be sensible enough to take his advice.

Don wanted something stronger but then decided that perhaps the associated drowsiness wouldn't be in his best interest. He took the tablets and made it to his feet before carefully climbing out. He was unsteady but made it under his own power.

"Cops and FBI agents never listen." Don heard the paramedic complain to Megan before she followed him out.

"You don't need to go to the hospital?"

Don turned to see Wachowski. He stifled a groan, he should have guessed the man wouldn't be far away. "No."

"Then it's time we got back." The DHS agent said steering Don towards the street.

Don hesitated, he wasn't in any shape to walk all the way back to the office, until he saw the car waiting amongst the other FBI cars now parked there. The other two DHS agents he'd met earlier at his apartment were waiting with it. Don obediently went with Wachowski as Megan watched without comment.

The ride back was brief, too brief. Don was not looking forward to going back into the building. Telford was really doing a number on him and he just knew that Barnathan would be waiting to demand an explanation. He just hoped that when this was all over he would be able to dig himself out of the mess he was in without too much damage to his career.

As Don had expected Barnathan was waiting at the lift. He turned without a word and headed back to the interrogation room. Don and Wachowski followed, with a brief stop in the break room to collect an icepack kept in the fridge there.

When he entered the interrogation room Don noted a file sitting open on the desk. They both sat down, Barnathan waving him again to the wrong side of the table. The DHS agent then silently flipped through a few more pages before closing the folder. Don saw Telford's name on the front, although he'd already recognised his report. Merrick must have given it to Barnathan. "Interesting reading. A very interesting man this Telford."

"I would call him something else." Don said darkly.

"I don't doubt it." Barnathan pushed the file partway across the table. "This is now the third time he's let you go. He had absolutely no reason to let you live, another murder of an agent won't affect his death penalty any. He's either very dumb, which I doubt, or very confident."

"He didn't need to kill me. He was trying to get away, killing me would have flooded the streets with police and agents. Besides which, we've been looking for him for eight months and we haven't been able to track him." Don explained. "From what I've been told catching him today was a pure stroke of luck."

"Odd though, that he turns up now."

"What?" His headache was making it difficult to concentrate. Don adjusted the icepack and hoped the paracetamol would kick in soon.

"There have been a lot of coincidences today." Barnathan elaborated.

Don had to stop this line of reasoning. _Damn Telford for foisting this whole thing on him in payback, he hadn't made him kill his men_. "I see where you're headed but this is way out of Telford's league. He is a vigilante, killing dirty agents and informants who'd made deals absolving them from punishment for their crimes. It's all in there." He tapped the closed folder with his spare hand. "If you're trying to connect him to Zuheen, it's just not possible."

"You'll forgive me if I don't take your word for that, Eppes." He leaned forward watching the FBI agent closely. "We'll be following this up. Who knows, perhaps we will have a better chance of catching and holding this Telford than you."

"Good. The more help we have getting him the better." Don watched the expression on Barnathan's face change. The DHS agent had clearly expected Don to object, not acquiesce. Don couldn't protest or else the tenuous connection Barnathan had made between Telford and the terrorist act based purely on coincidence would be strengthened.

"Hmm." The DHS agent sounded unconvinced. He picked up the file as he stood. "I'd tell you to rest, Eppes, but I think your ADIC wants a word."

Don stifled another groan. He had a fair idea what was coming next. He really didn't need it. He watched as the door closed, leaving him alone with Wachowski standing silently in the corner.

A minute later the door opened and Merrick entered. The ADIC glanced at his subordinate before turning to the junior DHS agent. "Outside."

Wachowski hesitated. "Sir, I…"

"I said, outside." Merrick repeated.

Wachowski got, closing the door softly behind him.

Merrick stood silently for a moment as Don waited. "How's the head?" He said finally, sounding less than sympathetic.

"Sore."

"I hope so." Merrick stepped over, slamming his palms onto the table top. "What the hell was that about, Eppes?"

"Sir?"

"Let me spell it out for you then. What were you doing taking a firearm into an interrogation room with a suspect?"

Don had an impertinent thought, _he was effectively the suspect here and both Barnathan and Wachowski had brought firearms into the room with him_. The only difference was that he wasn't yet in handcuffs. He didn't think that mentioning either point would go down too well, the way his luck was running the handcuffs could easily make an appearance. "I guess I wasn't thinking. I forgot." It was lame but he had nothing else.

"You damn near got yourself killed. You could have got your team killed." Merrick remembered something. "Or your brother."

Don flared, leaping to his feet. _That was too much_. "Don't you think I know that?" He suddenly wobbled and sat back down raising the icepack to the side of his head again as his stomach clenched painfully. The sudden movement had not been smart but Merrick's mention of Charlie was unwarranted.

Merrick now looked at his agent with some concern, hearing the grunt of pain and seeing the grimace that had appeared on his face, the arm that moved protectively across his midsection. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine."

"It wasn't a suggestion. Stay put." Merrick left abruptly.

_Stuff this_, Don thought still angry. If he had to see the doctor, then that was fine, but he didn't feel much like sitting here waiting. _Merrick could just come and find him_. He made it to his feet and went to the break room. The couch in there was much more comfortable than the hard interrogation room chair. He had Wachowski turn the lights off and whilst it wasn't exactly dark, it was dimmer. He lay partially curled on his side and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later he opened them, he'd had a worrisome thought. "Wachowski?"

"Yes?"

"Are my team back yet?"

"They came through while you were in with ADIC Merrick."

"Can you ask one of them to come in here for a moment? It's not about the case." He hastened to add.

"They've already left."

Don pulled his cell from his belt and hit the speed dial for Megan. Wachowski started towards him. "Relax, Agent Wachowski. It's not about the case."

"_Reeves."_

"Megan, it's Don."

"_How are you doing?"_

"I've been better." He admitted. "Where are you?"

"_We, ah."_ Megan hesitated.

"Sorry, shouldn't have asked." Don's question had been from force of habit, wanting to know what his team was doing. "Look, I want my father to be given protection."

"_You think Telford will go after him?"_

"I don't know, I don't think so, but…"

"_Don't worry. I've already sent someone around. They should be there by now."_

"Thanks, Megan." Don hung up. He knew he could rely on her. He should have thought of it himself, long before now. Charlie was safe, he was still here in the building, Don had seen him across the bull pen a couple of minutes ago.

He put the cell phone back into his pocket and closed his eyes again. He couldn't relax though, the cramps becoming much more of a problem than the headache. Perhaps seeing a doctor was not such a bad idea.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: The medical detail in this chapter comes off the top of my head, I am not a doctor. Please accept any errors as artistic licence._

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

-101000-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

"You think Telford will go after him?" Megan said into her phone. She was riding with a senior technician, reattempting their previously aborted mission to locate radio signals near the mall that could be from the terrorists' cameras. The delay and subsequent action had allowed the computer techs at the office to determine that there was no intrusion on the data links from the mall to the external website where they stored their security footage. That meant that the terrorist had to be using wireless cameras to keep the mall and the bombs under surveillance.

She listed to Don's response. "Don't worry." She told him. "I've already sent someone around. They should be there by now."

The relief in Don's voice was evident. The thought had crossed her mind just after Don had been taken from the alley by the DHS and had called Merrick to have a guard authorised. Merrick had recalled the threats made by Telford during Don's last encounter and had agreed to spare an agent to the task.

She'd then called Alan herself and told him to expect the agent. Alan hadn't been happy, but he'd seen the news broadcasts and knew that Don was heavily involved. He assumed that this was the reason for the protection against a long shot risk that the terrorist would come after Don's family. Megan saw no reason to change his thinking by telling him about Telford being back on the scene. She also doubted that Don had told his father about any of the other events involving Telford beyond his kidnapping from the hotel room and being left in the warehouse.

"_Approaching our start point now."_ David's voice came over the radio speaker mounted in the tech's van without preamble. They'd been given their own channel to use so they wouldn't interfere with the main operations.

"You're a few minutes ahead of us. Start your sweep." Megan replied.

Colby and David were approaching the mall from the south and would make their sweep along the southern perimeter before moving to the eastern side. Megan was to start on the western side and sweep around to the northern side. They should meet up off the north-eastern corner of the mall, but a block over to avoid the attention of the media.

It was slow going, Megan driving the van at around twenty miles an hour to give the tech's equipment the best chance of isolating a signal. David would be doing the same with Colby monitoring their portable equipment. Only a short time passed before the tech, Michael, called out that he had a possible signal. He noted it down as Megan kept going. They'd agreed that they would cover the entire area, noting contacts, meet up then retrace their route using both vehicles to triangulate their hits. Finally they met up and exchanged notes. They'd both had numerous hits all around the perimeter.

"Alright, let's get to it. The sooner Charlie has the data the sooner he can help us get the locations." Megan said once they'd compiled their list of all possible targets.

This time it took longer as each vehicle stopped a measured distance apart near each target. The direction finders were used to obtain a compass bearing from each vehicle which were then plotted on their maps. The bearings were radioed between the vehicles, thus they each created a map showing the placement of the cameras which could be cross checked for errors before they left.

Michael was also briefly to tune into each signal to confirm that it was a camera set up to view the mall. He made a brief recording of each image that he obtained, saving it to a flash drive. Michael had helped with the surveillance footage obtained via the internet and in one of the images he recognised a location inside the mall. A man in a security uniform moved and Michael saw the shopping bag that had been carried by the man they'd suspected of being a terrorist.

-100-1111-1110-

"Donald Eppes?" A pleasant male voice asked.

Don opened his eyes. He was surprised, in spite of the pain he'd managed to almost fall asleep. He didn't appreciate the interruption. "What?"

The lights came on as a man entered the room. He stopped next to Don after putting a bag on the nearby table. "My name is Doctor Pierce. I'm a government medical officer. I understand you are in some pain?"

Don sat up and looked around. Merrick was nowhere to be seen and Wachowski was trying to make himself unobtrusive whilst still standing near the door. He rubbed his face, careful not to touch the side of his head. "Yeah, Doc. Can you give me something?"

"Well that all depends on what is wrong with you, don't you think?" The stethoscope came out of the bag along with the standard doctor's flashlight and a blood pressure cuff.

The examination was thankfully short as it involved more painful prodding of the side of his head and stomach, bright lights in his eyes and then his blood pressure taken. Don took it all with good grace. Thankfully the doctor didn't make Don take his shirt off so the small stab wound went undiscovered. He didn't need any more fuss over that. After he'd given a brief description of his symptoms along with a highly edited version of his day the doctor seemed satisfied. "Well your blood pressure is a bit high, but given what you've told me it is understandable and only a real concern if it continues. A day after this is over I suggest you see your GP and get another check up. You also have a mild concussion, again not surprising. The stomach cramps are caused by the multiple hits of adrenalin that have flooded your blood stream. Have you eaten today?"

Don had had stomach cramps before after adrenalin dumps but never this bad. Then again he'd not had this many shocks to his system in one day either. "Not since this morning."

"Good, your stomach can't handle food at the moment. Lay off the coffee, drink plenty of water, and I recommend a sports drink to keep your electrolytes up." He nodded at Wachowski. "Perhaps your friend will get you one. I'll give you a muscle relaxant to help ease the spasms."

"No, I can't afford to be knocked out." Don objected although the idea had more than a little attraction. But it was not to be, he was expecting a phone call from Telford as Zuheen any time.

"Don't worry Mr. Eppes, it won't knock you out but it should take the edge off the spasms enough to let you sleep if you get the chance." The Doctor explained rummaging in a side pocket of the bag. "When exactly did you take the paracetamol?"

Don told him and was given two tablets of the muscle relaxant, popped out of a blister pack, in return. The doctor fetched him a glass of water and watched as he swallowed the medication.

The Doctor handed him the remainder of the blister pack. "If you still feel ill, take another one in two hours. You can take another dose of paracetamol in four hours. You have some of that? Good. Ice the side of your head when you can and you should be on the mend soon. Now I suggest you try to get some rest, I saw you were nearly asleep when I came in. Sorry about that."

"Thanks Doc." Don meant it, waving the apology off. For this he didn't mind being woken up. If the medicine made him feel better then he would be able to think more clearly.

"No problem." Pierce said cheerfully packing up his bag. "Is there anything else before I go?"

"No. Thanks." Don settled back down on the couch. His stomach still cramped painfully but with the promise of relief coming soon it didn't bother him so much. The doctor's order of rest sounded like the best thing he could do for now.

-101000-1000-101—10100-101-1-1101-

Buoyed by their success after comparing their maps the team returned to the field office and met up in the AV lab. The flash drive was plugged in and the different images examined. They could see a bag, a box or a trash bin near the centre of each image. They exchanged significant looks, there were seven such images, not the five they were expecting. There were at least seven suspect devices.

They noticed a cleared space around one such suspect package, the shopping bag they'd seen carried by a suspect terrorist earlier. It appeared that mall security had located the device and had created an exclusion zone. They were impressed that security had been able to get that far, they had a lot of people to control. But they had to be sure so Megan rang the security office number.

"Mr Fawcett, Megan Reeves, FBI. How are you going in there?"

The voice on the phone was tired, annoyed but in control. _"As well as we can be. Have you got anything for us?"_

Megan was reluctant to say too much, who knew where the terrorist got his intel? "I just noticed something on your video surveillance. I think you have something for us."

"_We found one of the bombs about an hour ago_." The security chief advised. _"Didn't you get the message? I phoned it through to your office."_

"I've just got back into the office, your message would have been passed on to the Incident Commander." She told him. "Did you get a look at the device?"

"_No way!"_ He was emphatic. _"None of us have training for that sort of thing."_

"I understand. Have you found any others?"

"_Agent Reeves, my staff have had their hands full just keeping everyone calm. We have a few possibles, I also told your office about those. But there are that many abandoned packages around that we are at a loss what to do with them all. The one we isolated we're sure about because one of the cleaners saw a man leaving it. She remembered it about an hour ago and went back to have a look. She lifted up a scarf at the top of the bag and saw the bomb. She nearly had a heart attack, she's still in the office now worried sick that she nearly set the thing off."_

Fawcett was definitely annoyed, but Megan couldn't blame him. "Fair enough. We'll keep working on it from our end. You and your staff have done a great job so far, just keep doing what you are doing and we'll work at getting you all out."

"_Is the government going to pay the ransom, the gold?"_

"I can't discuss that Mr Fawcett. The government's responses to the demands are well and truly out of my hands anyway."

"_You know, it always sounded so good, the whole 'we don't negotiate with terrorists' thing. But I got to tell you Agent Reeves, when you're in the hot seat negotiation sure sounds like the way to go."_

"I guess it does. Thanks Mr Fawcett." She hung up.

"So they found one and we now know where six more are located." Colby summed up after Megan had relayed Fawcett's side of the conversation. "Do we tell mall security where the other six are?"

"No. We tell Merrick what we got." Megan instructed. "Michael, can you organise that gear and can you get it all in place?"

"Sure thing." The tech replied. "I'll need a few extra hands though. Perhaps the ADIC will authorise a recall of some more of our staff?"

"Just get the gear ready, I'll make sure you get people to help, even if it is just us." Megan promised, picking up the colour printouts of the suspect devices, along with several exterior views of the mall. "You guys stay here and help out. I'll go brief Charlie and Merrick."

David and Colby for their part were only too happy to let Megan take point on that. They got stuck into helping Michael and another tech pull out the equipment and check it over to ensure each piece would work.

Megan for her part had to give her briefing to SAC Brenton. Merrick had left the MIR for a private conference.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

-100-1111-1110-

A group of men moved past where Don was still trying to sleep. He hardly took any notice, the floor was a hive of activity with people from each of the various agencies comprising the JTTF constantly coming and going. This was just another such group, Don only just noting their passing.

There was a sudden burst of sound, music, someone's cell phone ring tone. Don's eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright. He immediately then hoped that no one had noticed his reaction, at least no one other than Wachowski who had started at Don's sudden movement. The music was the same as that he'd heard whilst he was in the presence of Telford's employer. The phone continued unanswered for long enough for Don to hear more of the tune. A few more bars and he had it, _The Ride of the Valkyries_. Most music based cell phone ring tones he'd heard were from current or recently released tracks or themes from television shows. He couldn't remember hearing a classical music piece as a ring tone before, not even on Charlie's phone. It was sufficiently unusual that Don was sure that it had to be the same phone. _More than good enough for Barnathan_, Don though ruefully, _the man sure liked his coincidences. This was a good one though_. Don needed to see who owned the phone.

Don peered around what he could see of the floor through the room's glass walls, trying to spot the phone's owner before the phone was answered and the music stopped. He'd narrowed the direction down to the small group of three men that had just passed by a moment earlier and were walking away. Abruptly the music stopped. But for once something was going in Don's favour, the phone was answered and raised to an ear.

Don abruptly turned away, it couldn't be. Unfortunately he was sure what he'd seen, who he'd seen. He had some work cut out for him now, he had to find real proof to link the man to Telford and the plot against the mall. It was not going to be a simple matter of telling Barnathan so he could pounce before the remote controlling the bombs could be activated. He would need much more than just coincidence to accuse another agent of terrorism, murder, kidnapping and conspiracy to commit. Considering who he'd just seen, even Barnathan would hesitate to act without more evidence.

Don took a moment to catalogue his condition. The doctor had been right, the muscle relaxant had greatly eased his cramps to the point that they were no longer an issue. His headache was still there but had also reduced to a more manageable level. This was not all to say that he couldn't do with a whole day or so in bed at the moment but he would live.

Don rose to his feet and took a few experimental steps finding he was able to keep his balance without any problems.

"What's up?" Wachowski asked.

"Something I need to do." Don told the man as he started for the door.

"Wait." Wachowski went to the fridge and pulled out a brightly coloured bottle. He handed it to his charge.

Don realised that he must have slept, for a few minutes at least, he hadn't seen the bottle delivered. Don opened the sports drink as he made his way over to his computer and was relieved to see that his team weren't using the cubicle. He sat and took a moment to finish off the bottle. Almost immediately he felt revived. Tossing the empty bottle into the bin in the corner he logged in to his desktop. He opened up a few search windows and wondered where to start. Don became aware of Wachowski standing behind his shoulder, looking at his screen. He didn't want the DHS agent to follow this line of inquiry, at least not until he'd proven his suspicions.

"This is confidential, Agent Wachowski."

Wachowski wasn't apologetic. "I'm to supervise everything you do Special Agent Eppes." He'd already screwed up this evening and didn't want to make any more mistakes. This was his first major incident, if he wanted to continue serving the DHS in a field role he knew he had to improve his performance.

"Supervise yes, but you can do that from back over there." Don waved at David's seat behind him.

"I can't see what you are doing from over there." Wachowski had a flash of inspired reasoning. "How do I know you're not about to send information to the terrorist via e-mail or over the internet?"

_A terrorist with an internet site?_ Don thought incredulously but then realised that stranger things had probably happened. However Wachowski had made a valid point, Don hadn't thought of the possibility and should have. There was a simple solution to the problem and Don didn't need the access anyway. He pressed the speaker button on his phone and dialled the computer section extension.

"This is Eppes, ID number 3695." He said when a tech answered. "I want my external e-mail and internet access blocked immediately."

"I'll need your passcode to verify your ID."

"Hotel-seven-nine-one-victor-tango."

There was the sound of computer keys being pressed. "Confirmed, Special Agent Eppes. You external accounts have been blocked. You will receive a notification in your in-box momentarily. Anything else I can do for you?"

"No, thanks." Don hung the phone up. He could have got the computer section to help but he needed this inquiry kept quiet for now. He opened his e-mail and ignored the ones already waiting for him, he wasn't interested in those. A few seconds later the computer beeped and a new e-mail appeared as promised. He opened it and saw the confirmation that his external access was blocked. Wachowski, reading over his shoulder obviously decided it was good enough as he moved back and took a seat far enough away that he wouldn't be able to read information off the screen. Don got to work.

All FBI computer access was password and ID protected requiring a user to log in then enter a password at various points in the system when entering search fields requesting data and when opening up certain files returned by the search engines. This provided an audit trail allowing those with certain access to track a user's movements thought the system and to see what data was being retrieved. At several points it was also necessary for a user to enter their reason for accessing certain information into a free text field.

Don no longer had his full SAC level access but as a team leader and supervisor he did have access to conduct some audits of a user's trail through the system. He put that to use now, entering his own password and reasons for access as he went. His own inquiries could be traced and questioned. He just hoped his target wasn't keeping track of such things at the moment, he shouldn't be, he should be too occupied with the incident at hand.

Don found his memory fuzzy on the details so he started to rise to get his open Telford file but remembered that Barnathan had taken it. He went back over his running logs and old, electronically stored, reports instead and was able to get the information he needed, the names of the murdered agents and informants along with the dates.

He then conducted his own searches on the names as he had done eight months before when investigating Telford's claims, but this time he clicked into the secondary administration screens each time to see who had accessed the same information and when. He found his own ID on the screen along with a whole list of others, some he immediately recognised as his team, others he didn't know. He checked for the usage closest to the dates of the murders and printed the list out on the printer sitting on the desk beside him. He pulled up Special Agent Gerhardt's file and that of Shelton, her protectee, from New York. He expanded the dates somewhat however as he had less information to work from. He again printed the list of ID codes. The same number was starting to leap out at him.

He switched to another screen and entered the ID codes one after another to obtain the names of the inquiring agents. The repeating ID code came up to the name he'd expected. He printed the page out and left it sitting face down on the printer output tray.

He returned to the other screen and clicked into the ID of his target, pulling up his trail through the records of each person, agent and informant alike. He opened up the reason for access fields and printed out the results. He noted that some of the reasons made no sense, in fact seemed to refer to other persons and other inquiries. Don noted the times and dates of those accesses. Fortunately some of those free text fields included names enabling Don to look those up as well and confirm that his target had conducted inquiries into those others. The timings made it look as though the target had looked at information about an informant or agent by mistake whilst conducting inquiries into another person. It seemed that his target had made some attempt to provide an alibi for some of the accesses. As his target was senior to him Don wasn't able to fully follow that up however as his level of access didn't allow him to simply call up all transactions. He could only search by looking up the same information.

He remembered someone he'd left out. Don looked up his own details, clicking into the appropriate secondary screen. Again the same ID code appeared on the day of Hendrik's murder and his own kidnapping. He scrolled back searching for any previous appearances of the ID code, Telford's employer had mentioned following Don's work 'for some time'. He found periodic hits, especially after some of his more noteworthy arrests. The earliest access he could find was after a particularly convoluted investigation he'd headed whilst he was in Albuquerque.

He remembered the job, an investigation into the corruption of a number of high ranking city officials. Pressure had been put on him from several sources to drop the matter but he'd persevered eventually proving the case and sending several officials to jail for official misconduct and fraud. Don frowned as a memory occurred, he'd actually received a letter of commendation from his target. Don then recalled his advice to David to check his personal file for thank-you letters. He'd never dreamed, nor would David, as to who they should have been looking at.

He worked his way back up the list opening up each file that his target had looked at. He saw that most times his target had read the covering report and left it at that. There was another notable exception. The target had looked at everything involving the Crystal Hoyle case and Megan's kidnapping. He saw the report where Merrick had signed off on his actions and those of Edgerton. His target had approved the ADIC's conclusions.

Don sat back and thought for a moment. He'd received an e-mail from Telford eight months ago in the then current FBI encryption. His target was the obvious source for that. He also remembered that when his passcode had been used by Telford's employer the call for the bogus address check had come in to the FBI's internal inquiry number. An outsider wouldn't know that number. More damning information. Don pulled up that inquiry made under his ID, seeing the note from Merrick that the access had been fraudulent, and printed those pages as well.

A little creative digging was now needed. Don went through some expenditure and visitor records both for LA and New York and was able to place his target in both cities at the times of the murders. He was also able to place his target arriving in LA a couple of days ago. That would explain why the target had been called in for this incident and had arrived so quickly, he was already in town. A few more pages printed out adding to the respectable pile already waiting. It was still all circumstantial, enough to raise questions but not enough, yet, to convict. It was mounting though.

Don exited out of the inquiry screens and opened up the FBI intra-net, pulling up his target's bio page. He read it through carefully noting past postings, major investigations and any listed staff he had working for him over the years. Don also dug up electronic copies of their internal journal, articles found by searching for his target by name. The journals were an in-house publication, originally in print but now produced electronically. A project had been underway for some time to convert older journals to electronic copies as well. The journals were a forum to report on good work by agents, cover new trends in crime, and to list promotions and transfers. Dan had appeared in a few articles himself. It was in one of the older transferred journals that Don got his break.

It was a picture of his target along with several others identified as staff members establishing a new office. Don immediately recognised the man standing slightly behind and to one side of his target. The photo was more than a few years old, the quality down compared to more recent photos. The hairstyle was also different. But for all that the man was clearly Telford. Don had long suspected that Telford had been and possibly still was, FBI. He had in fact searched photographs of agents looking for the man. He knew far too much about procedures to not be an agent. He read off the name at the bottom of the photo. The name was only slightly different to the one he was using now.

He went back to the other system and conducted a search on Telford. He decided that he had to keep thinking of him under that name, the man's real name was too close and Don knew it would be easy to make a disastrous slip.

From reading the article in the journal Don had learnt that his target had mentored Telford from the Academy, sponsoring him into more important positions until adding him to his staff. Then it had gone bad. The file Don managed to pull up showed that about five and half years ago an informant being guarded by Telford had died in suspicious circumstances. The investigation hadn't been conclusive, not enough evidence gathered to charge Telford, but it had been sufficient to force him to resign from the FBI.

The timeline seemed to fit. Don checked the notes he'd made of the dates. It would be nearly five years ago now that the military men had dropped off the face of the earth which would have been when they were recruited. The first execution had happened about four years ago, the next almost two years later. Hendrik was eight months ago, Gerhardt and Shelton a couple of weeks ago. It was a classic serial killer pattern, the gap between Telford's actions diminishing, even taking into account the apparent last minute nature of the threat to the mall based on intel supposedly gathered by Telford in New York.

Don now had a second stack of printouts. He put most of them into an envelope which he placed in his lockable top drawer. The first set of printouts he went over carefully, highlighting various lists of data and included the photo of his target and Telford. He went over to the nearest photocopier and copied everything. The copy went into an envelope, joining the first in the drawer which he then locked. The originals went into a folder.

He sat there holding the folder for a while. He had him, he knew who Telford's employer was but there was nothing he could actually do about it. Knowing the man's name didn't change the fact that he had a remote detonator that he could used to kill innocent civilians. A threat that served to keep Don from taking action for the moment, but he was ready for when the situation presented itself.

--

_**A/N:**__ Not too sure how this chapter will be received. I spent a lot of time agonising over whether to include it or to cut it down dramatically. I decided to leave it as is as I feel these details are important. Does it work?_

_And since I was asked so nicely, another chapter to celebrate the weekend…_


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: Some more action…_

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

"Hey, Charlie?"

Charlie jerked upright, left hand grabbing the side of his neck at a painful twinge. He really shouldn't fall asleep over his computer like that. It took him a moment to remember why he was sleeping over his computer. He saw the results of his labour on his desktop, the complete blueprints for the mall which he'd simplified down to show walls, windows, walkways and open space ready for blast pattern analysis. He already had most of the variables in and was now waiting for the locations of the bombs. He then remembered why he'd woken. He turned, careful of his stiff neck, and saw Megan walking in, a coffee in her hand. "Hi."

"Hi. Looks like you could do with this." She handed over the cup. She waited as he started to drink the contents.

"Thanks." The hot liquid went down surprisingly well.

"You awake now?" She'd woken up more than her fair share of people over the years and had been rudely awakened a few times herself so she knew it took a few minutes for the brain to get into gear.

"I think so." He looked around. "Where's Don?"

Megan wasn't surprised at the question. "I've heard he's sleeping in the break room. He was seen by a doctor not long ago."

"A doctor!" Charlie had known Don had been hurt and had been seen by an EMT. He'd even seen his brother briefly across the opposite side of the bull pen walking under his own steam holding an icepack to the side of his head. He hadn't realised he'd been hurt bad enough for a doctor to be called. It was so hard to be this close to his brother but not be able to go to him. "I want to see him."

"Charlie, he's sleeping." Megan repeated. Their cubicle was not in sight from the conference room, she couldn't see Don was working at his computer. "You know you shouldn't see him at the moment anyway."

"I don't care."

"You can't help him if they kick you out of here." Megan said bluntly.

"Alright." Charlie finally said, conceding that Megan had a valid point. He saw the papers in her hand. "What have you got for me?"

She explained their last couple of hours of work as she presented him with the maps, along with the lists of signal strengths and frequencies from each source.

Charlie looked at her suddenly, away from the map he'd been scrutinising, turning off the equations flowing through his mind. "You've got a plan."

"Yes." She admitted but maddeningly failed to elaborate.

"Well?"

"Part of one. Look, it might not work. I'm hoping we have enough equipment and people to pull it off."

"Tell me!"

Charlie sat back as she finished. It could work. He'd seen the idea often enough in all the best cop movies and it actually had a degree of plausibility. As it was still night outside the vehicles would be less likely to be detected allowing them to complete their tasks. They still had the rest of the plan to figure out though and the sooner they started the better. Then they would need his results. Which reminded him, he had work to do.

He turned back to the maps and lists and was instantly immersed, oblivious to everything else, even Megan leaving.

-100-1111-1110-

Don shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was sitting in the back seat of a speeding SUV being driven to the mall. Telford had phoned him half an hour ago, far later than expected, demanding that he give a press briefing at the mall. 'Zuheen' wanted to denounce the other message as false and was increasing his demand for gold in punishment.

The senior members of the JTTF hadn't been happy, the conflicting messages from the terrorist throwing them off balance. One side had to be false which led them to the conclusion that Don was in danger. They didn't want to risk losing their contact with the terrorist but Don's target had prevailed, convincing them to comply with the demand. The carrot was dangled that if an attempt was made on Don then there was a fifty-fifty chance that the attacker would be Zuheen. A hastily worded release was drawn up to accompany the text he'd been given and Don was sent out. He'd also not been permitted to draw a replacement weapon from the armoury. No, it wasn't the bulky body armour that made him uncomfortable, it was the knowledge that he was allowing himself to be set up as a target.

His armoured SUV contained a full team of DHS agents, including Wachowski, sent by Barnathan ostensively to protect him from the threat but Don knew that their duel role was to keep him under guard. Don found that for the moment he didn't really mind, it meant he was safe from Telford. The other SUV contained the FBI team sent by Merrick. He knew that there were several teams of both FBI and LAPD SWAT officers positioned at various locations around the mall, holding out of sight. The fifty-fifty chance of catching Zuheen was too good an opportunity to pass up.

It was still dark but large crowds were waiting near the barricades erected around the mall, concentrated around the entrance area that the LAPD were struggling to keep clear for emergency vehicles. Telford couldn't have asked for their entrance to be more obvious, the two large black SUVs with heavily tinted windows and lights flashing travelled straight through the entrance without slowing. If Zuheen was really watching then he would have no doubt that government agents had arrived, perhaps even the one he had threatened.

They rolled to a side by side stop near a second cordon. This was where the media were set up, clear to move free of the crowds but still some distance from the inner cordon where the emergency services were set up. They were already in place, setting up for live broadcasts for the six o'clock morning news when the FBI had notified them that Zuheen had a new message. Don recognised several national anchors and noticed the badging of various international news services on other cameras and reporter's jackets. There had been more than ample time for media to have flocked to the scene in numbers guaranteed to generate maximum publicity, unknowingly following Telford's design to draw the terrorist out.

The DHS and FBI agents slid from their vehicles and were almost immediately mobbed. The media broke away from their set up positions in their rush to get information. Don was trapped in the middle as his detail struggled to create a space, pushing the camera operators and shouting reporters back. Finally, with the arrival of some back up in the form of LAPD, order was restored allowing the FBI contingent to move off and position themselves to watch the area around them. The DHS agents kept close to Don and he had an armoured SUV protecting his back.

Don stole a glance at his watch and saw that it had gone six o'clock. The waking LA would be tuning in for the morning news. The media realised that their deadline had arrived and efficiently organised themselves in a large silent semi-circle around the terrorist's chosen spokesman. All movement ceased as a CNN reporter called out that they were ready as if the bright camera lights and microphones pointed at him like so many rifles weren't enough of an indication. The footage would go out live.

"I have been contacted again by the terrorist Zuheen." Don started speaking loudly and clearly. He reluctantly read from the inflammatory script provided by Telford. "He says: '_the message sent to Reuters was false, I will have vengeance on those who dare take my name. I chose to make America pay for their outrages against us. From a country that wants only wealth and material riches I now want two hundred million dollars of your precious gold. The deadline of ten o'clock this morning remains for the gold to be ready. You will release twenty of my friends and brothers from Guantanamo Bay. There will be no extensions, I will destroy this symbol of American wealth and take these infidel lives if I am not obeyed_.' That is the end of his message. The US Government has decided to prepare the two hundred million dollars of gold. It will be drawn from the Fort Knox depository and be waiting at ten o'clock. No detainees will be released from Guantanamo Bay. We await further contact from Zuheen." Don folded the sheet of paper indicating he'd finished.

The media scrum erupted. A hundred questions all asked at once, Don didn't have a hope of understanding what was said let along answering anything. He held up his hand, trying to bring them to order. What he had been about to say was left unsaid as the side of his face was peppered with glass shards from the impact of the bullet on the window of the SUV behind him. Don turned in shock as the sound of the rifle shot reached them, staring at the unbroken but starred glass a few inches to the right side of his head.

The DHS agents reacted before he could. He was grabbed and hustled around to the opposite side of the SUV to the corridor of safety between the two armoured vehicles. A door was opened and he was unceremoniously bundled into the undamaged SUV as the other agents scanned the area around them, weapons out, for the shooter. Don could hear the screams from the media as they scattered making the agents' job hopeless. He also heard the shouted commands into radios as sirens started up from nearby, the SWAT units being called in. Don tried to sit up, to see what was happening but was pushed down out of sight. More doors opened and the vehicle rocked as other DHS agents jumped in. The engine started and the SUV peeled away, swerving wildly to avoid running over members of the media. Don was finally allowed to sit up in time to see a SWAT SUV take up a position behind them as they raced back to the FBI building. His face stung and he absently rubbed his right hand over the area.

"Are you hit?" Wachowski demanded

Don looked at his shaking, bloody hand. "Just glass I think." There was still a babble of voices over their radio. "Has anyone been hit?"

"No. There was just the one shot."

"Have they tracked it?"

"Working on it. They figure a sniper from a building top, LAPD have their helicopter searching."

--

_A/N: And I claim to like Don! He he he..._


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: Wow, heaps of reviews with wonderful comments. Thanks everyone! Things start coming together now…_

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

-11-1000-1-10010-1100-1001-101-

As the lift doors opened Charlie was waiting with the rest of Don's team, along with Merrick. It had been a harrowing half hour. They had all been in the MIR watching the screens for Don's media briefing when they had seen all hell erupt. Charlie had seen the puff of glass beside his brother's head an instant before Don had turned to stare at the mark. If the shot had been another few inches to the right Don would have been gone. He'd almost witnessed his brother being murdered on live television.

The media scattered but some brave cameramen had continued filming. Charlie and everyone else in the MIR had watched the shaky footage in silence as the rest of the action had transpired. Charlie standing frozen in numb horror, waiting for the next shot to reach its target. There had been no second shot. He had been relieved beyond words when he saw Don shoved into the SUV before it scorched away a moment later weaving wildly.

The coverage had been constant since the media lost sight of Don's SUV and the second black FBI suburban that had joined its high speed exit from the area. The media quickly returned to their positions and began their commentaries on what had happened. Cameras followed the movements of the second, damaged SUV from Don's convoy as it raced towards the suspected location of the sniper. Other black SUVs converged on the area as a helicopter roared overhead. Then Don's calm reading of the statement was replayed along with the action that had followed. It was as if the footage was on a loop.

Charlie couldn't bear to watch it again and had sat facing away from the screens listening to the radio calls that Don was on his way in and was secure. The footage was on its fourth repetition, he still jumped when he heard the gunshot, when the radio announced that Don was safely back at the building. Charlie had seen the blood on the side of Don's face and wasn't so sure he was safe. DHS agents or not Charlie was going to speak to his brother when he got back.

The first agent stepped from the lift as Charlie and Don's team moved forward. "Don!"

"Charlie?" Don answered as he saw his brother.

"Don!" Charlie pushed his way through to Don's side. "Are you alright? You're hurt!"

"I'm alright. You saw it, huh Chuck?"

"Don't call me 'Chuck'." It was automatic but gave him a moment to see that his brother really was okay. The blood on the side of his face was from several small glass cuts. They'd bled messily but there was no real damage. Charlie's mind shied away from what might have happened. "I saw it. We all did."

Don looked around at his team that had joined them as most of the DHS agents moved off. Charlie didn't know how he did it but his older brother managed a half smile. "It was more fun being there."

"Hunh." Charlie wasn't amused at the gallows humour.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Megan said pulling the first aid kit off the wall bracket next to the lift. She then led the way to their adopted conference room.

Charlie saw that the senior DHS agent was watching in disapproval but the agent made no move to stop the group as he turned to speak to Merrick. Wachowski came with them and took up his customary spot just inside the door. But they could put up with that, he'd been the one to get Don safely into the SUV after the shooting.

Megan opened the kit but it was Charlie that grabbed the antiseptic liquid and a dressing he could use as a swab. Don sat silently under Charlie's ministrations, Megan holding a flashlight as he gently made sure that no glass remained in his brother's face.

"You know that's my job." Don said when Charlie had finished.

"Just paying you back." Charlie referred to the times that he'd been the one getting doctored by his brother after being attacked by schoolyard bullies.

"Got anything to drink around here?" Charlie handed over his water bottle and watched with some concern as Don pulled some tablets out of a pocket and popped one in his mouth. Don saw his questioning look. "Nausea medication."

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked again.

"I will be." Don answered honestly this time.

"It will all be over soon." Charlie couldn't help but say.

Something in his tone caused Don to suddenly tense and turn sharply to stare at him, before glancing at each of his team in turn. His gaze came back to Charlie. "What do you mean?"

Charlie ignored Megan's warning glance. "We have got it figured out. Everything will be in position soon and this will all be over."

"What are you doing?"

Charlie laid the plan out in point form. It had all come together quickly after the first part had been put in motion. Whilst Megan was setting that up he had gone over the radio frequency work they'd worked up for him. It hadn't taken long before he'd decided there was no point in trying to track the receivers, the signals were all one way meaning the cameras were not remote controlled. Finding the receivers would not really assist them at this time, they were unlikely to be attended. He would get to it once everything was over. Charlie had moved on to the blast analysis work that he'd set up ready for the locations of the devices. He'd determined the safest positions for the hostages to seek shelter. The mall blue prints had also helped with the next part of the plan, there was actually a way in underground, it was limited but enough for what they needed. They were taking a gamble on how the devices were to be remotely detonated but they had to go with the most likely. There was a simple way around that, mostly. The plan was gaining momentum but would be at least an hour before they would be ready to start.

"Merrick's on his way to see the Deputy Assistant Director now for final approval." Charlie said when he had finished.

"What!" Charlie was not prepared for Don's violent reaction. Don jumped up, grabbing his upper arms, fingers digging in painfully. "Ryder?"

"Y-yes." Charlie stammered.

"When?"

"Hey, ease up Don." Megan said in warning from where she stood. She tried to move between the two men but Don flicked her move off with his elbow as he remained focussed on Charlie.

Don shook his younger brother to get an answer. "When?" He repeated, his voice intense.

"J-just now." Charlie stared over Don's shoulder and through the glass walls towards the lift lobby where he'd just seen the ADIC press the call button.

Don's head turned before he abruptly shoved his brother away and ran for the door. As Charlie stumbled and fell he saw Don nearly bowl Wachowski over as the man tried to block his path. Don made it past the DHS agent but was followed closely by Colby and David as he ran towards the lifts and Merrick. Charlie scrambled to his feet and followed after Megan and Wachowski. By the time he made it to the lift Don had been grabbed from behind by Colby in a bear hug and pulled to a stop just short of his goal. Merrick had also taken a step back, ignoring the waiting lift.

"What have you told Ryder?" Don demanded urgently, straining to get closer to Merrick.

"What is the meaning of this ruckus, Eppes?" Merrick stepped up to stand nose to nose with Don.

Don stopped fighting. He lowered his voice, speaking slowly and clearly. "Have you seen Ryder yet?"

"I'm on my way to his office now."

"Don't." Don looked around. Charlie did too, seeing that those that had noticed the flurry of activity had started to return to their tasks. Except for the senior DHS agent that was, he was approaching under full sail. His brother continued. "You can't."

"Why not?"

Don turned his head to Colby. "You can let me go." Colby hesitated but cautiously relaxed his grip when Merrick waved a hand. The lift doors closed as Don turned to Charlie. "Tell me it will work. I don't want the numbers. Will. It. Work?"

"It will work." Charlie said.

"It will work, Don." Megan repeated. "What's going on?"

"Exactly what I would like to know." The senior DHS agent said hearing Megan's question as he reached them.

Charlie thought that Don unexpectedly looked trapped. "Don? Donny?"

"Not here." Don led the way back to the conference room.

Once they were all inside Don turned back to close the door but Wachowski set himself and barred the way. Once Don had explained himself though, the DHS agent closed the door and stood against it. They then waited as Don went around the room closing off the blinds until the glass walled room was isolated.

"Explain yourself, agent." Merrick ordered as soon as Don finished.

Don faced them. "If any of this gets out, if Ryder finds out, then I am dead. And so are a lot of people in the mall. Do you understand?"

"We're waiting, Eppes. Sit down." Merrick ordered.

Charlie sat as well. He didn't miss the significant glance that Merrick directed at David and Colby. Those two men remained standing as everyone else sat. Charlie got the distinct impression that Don was in some serious trouble if he couldn't explain himself.

"Agent Barnathan, your suspicions were right." Don said then clarified. "The terrorist that grabbed me at the mall was Telford."

"Telford!" Megan said as the pieces clicked into place.

"The white SUV." Colby said at the same time. "He was driving a white suburban when we picked him up. The bomber had a white SUV. That was Telford?"

Don nodded. "Yeah."

David dived for a phone and dialled a number, identifying himself. "The white SUV, the suburban I called in for a tow just after 11:30 last night, where is it? … What? Are you sure? … Okay, thanks anyway." David hung up the phone and stepped back. "Telford's SUV wasn't where we left it when LAPD turned up. It's gone."

"He had backup." Don stated. "You guys were lucky."

Charlie saw David and Colby react to that news.

Megan spoke up. "So that's why you went into the interview room carrying your gun. You let him take it off you. You deliberately helped him escape."

Don nodded again. "I had no time to come up with a plan. If he didn't get to a phone a bomb would have gone off."

"From reading your file I know what Telford is capable of doing. You couldn't have been sure he wasn't going to shoot your team, nor could you be sure that he would let you go." Barnathan said.

"He wanted out. If he started shooting he would have been killed. There were too many armed agents around for it to have ended any differently. I was sure he would avoid that. As to letting me go, I was fairly certain he would. They still needed me. He took the opportunity I gave him, playing along by taking my gun off me. If he had intended to kill me he would have just demanded I hand over my gun, revealing his part in all this." Don shrugged. "I think he bears a grudge against me."

"You still would have handed over your gun if he had asked, knowing that?"

"I wouldn't have had a choice. I can't put my life before all those others in the mall. That's why I'm in the middle of this mess. If killing me would have prevented a bomb going off I would have let him do it. I'd already told him he could."

"What?" Charlie couldn't believe that Don would tell someone that they could kill him.

Don briefly described his first meeting with Telford at the mall when he had only known about the one bomb and thought it was there to ensure his cooperation.

"The stab wound." Wachowski contributed from the door.

"What stab wound? You were stabbed?" Charlie said incredulously.

"It was just a prick, he wanted to see if I would let him do it."

Charlie gaped at him. His brother was calmly talking about nearly being murdered in cold blood. He got up and went over to him. "Alright, Charlie." His brother said before Charlie could ask. Don stood and lifted his sweater undoing enough buttons on his shirt to reveal his midriff. The wound had bled a little since his shower but was obviously minor.

Charlie sat back down as Don readjusted his clothing and went on with his explanation. His brother kept it as short as he could but gave the full story.

Charlie had thought his brother was having a rough day earlier, but he really hadn't had a clue. Hearing all this now he was amazed at how strong Don really was. The pressure his older brother had been under had been incredible, was still incredible. Charlie knew he would have broken long before now if he'd been put in such a position, but not his brother.

Don finally got to the crux of the matter, why he had stopped Merrick from going to Ryder. He received disbelieving stares in return. Don pulled out his keys. "The proof is in my desk drawer."

Barnathan glanced at Wachowski who confirmed that Don had been working on something. Merrick had Don give his keys to David who returned a minute later with two envelopes and a folder. Don then quickly guided Barnathan and Merrick through the contents, backing up his unbelievable accusation.

"What were you going to see him about?" Barnathan asked the ADIC.

Merrick quickly explained their plan, as told to him by Brenton. Until now it had been kept in-house. Merrick had wanted to present the plan to Ryder and get his full approval before announcing it the entire JTTF. In anticipation of that approval Merrick had put everything in motion, stressing the secrecy of their actions to those involved. Only a few FBI agents knew about it and those that were not in the room were out in the field. The techs were the exception but they were on a different floor, out of sight, out of mind.

The DHS agent appeared impressed. "Okay. There is enough here to pull on Ryder but we can't act on it now. Until then this plan has to be kept from him. While the mall is still in danger we must assume that Eppes is right and proceed accordingly."

Merrick agreed.

"When the time comes you'll need my help. I'm the only one that can pull it off." Don said.

"I realise that." Barnathan said. "In the meantime however, knowing what you have just told us you are our greatest risk. If Telford learns of this plan you are the one he will ring. I can't take your cell off you and I can't stop you talking to him yet. If he threatens to detonate a bomb, will you tell him?"

"There is no reason for him to believe I would know. He knows that I am out of the loop and have no influence over the investigation."

Charlie could see that Barnathan was not fully convinced. "You will go with Wachowski to the interrogation room. I will put another guard outside the room. You will stay there and not leave until I come for you. If you get a call from Telford it is to go on speaker so Wachowski can hear it. If it is about anything else then play along as you have been. If it is about the plan and you are about to cave in Wachowski can take whatever action he deems necessary to stop you. This could be our only chance and I won't let you block it. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly." Don said. "I stopped ADIC Merrick from blowing this already. I'm not going to be the one who stops this plan."

Charlie suddenly came to a conclusion. He'd glanced at Wachowski as Barnathan had given his orders. He'd seen the younger agent's right hand briefly touch his gun. Charlie realised just how far Wachowski could go to stop Don if he felt he had to. "You can't do that." He objected.

"It's alright Charlie." Don said, understanding his meaning. "It's like I said before, I can't put my life before all those people in the mall. If Telford gets wind of this he will ring me looking for information and will likely threaten me. Until the bombs are neutralised Barnathan can't take the risk that I'll cooperate with Telford. Don't worry, Wachowski won't be shooting me."

Charlie didn't feel any better after Don's promise. He could only sit there as his older brother was escorted out of the conference room. He jumped up as almost everyone started talking about Don's revelations. He couldn't listen, he had to have another look at his brother. He made his way out to the bull pen in time to see Don looking back at him from the interrogation room before Wachowski closed the blinds. He felt an irrational flush of anger against the DHS agent, but his head understood the man was just doing his job. But at the moment his head did not rule.

He knew that the next hour or so could not pass quickly enough, until the mall was secured Don was in danger not only from Telford but from those who were supposed to be on the same side.

There was a sudden vibration in his pocket. His cell, switched to silent mode. He pulled it out and checked the caller ID on the tiny screen. _"Dad"_.

--

_A/N: That conversation shall remain private. For those who guessed the identity of the mole, a gold star. I hope I have enough in stock._


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

-100-1111-1110-

Sitting in the interrogation room with the blinds drawn, isolated from everything, the time seemed to drag interminably. The last thing he'd seen was Charlie standing outside the conference room staring at him. It was a relief, almost, when Don's phone finally rang. Wachowski was instantly alert, taking a step closer to the table where Don sat.

Don pulled his phone from his belt, flipped it open to answer the call, pressing the speaker button as he did so. He placed the phone carefully on the table top. "Eppes."

The voice coming from the cell was not electronically distorted. It was Telford, showing his arrogance and confidence. "_Is this monitored?_"

"No."

"_I see you survived_."

"No thanks to you." Don said bitterly.

"_Zuheen is reacting as we planned. You will be seen again. Be at the mall for nine o'clock. You better hurry to make it_."

It was just before 8:30, what Telford wanted was impossible. By the time the message was passed through the JTTF and Don was on the road the deadline would have passed. He tried to explain that, then added: "After that shot I don't think they will go for it."

"_Tell them Zuheen will detonate a bomb if you are not there by 9:30_."

"What do you want me to say this time?"

"_I don't care, make something up. You know what you have to do, and why_." Telford hung up.

Don left the phone where it was as Wachowski made his own call. A few minutes later they were joined by Barnathan and Merrick.

"Out of the question." Merrick said when Don had relayed Telford's orders.

"Is everything ready? Is the mall safe yet?" Don demanded.

"Nearly, but not yet." Merrick started. "Your team is organising the final stages."

"Then we still have to play along for now." Don argued. "You'll have to pass the demand through Ryder anyway and he'll okay it."

"Ryder's in a conference call with our Directors. He's only just started and I imagine he'll be busy for a little longer. I don't think we'll interrupt him." Barnathan stated. "But I agree with you. We'll have to move on this new demand as normal and take this to the JTTF. ADIC Merrick will act in Ryder's stead. They will make the decision. What's the message going to be?"

Don made something up, scribbling it out on the back of a piece of paper Merrick provided. It was virtually a repeat of the last message and the two men left.

-1101-101-111-1-1110-

Megan was in the AV lab with Charlie. David and Colby were getting ready for their own task, hidden away in another office on a different floor with Merrick and Barnathan.

"Reeves to DHS One, sit-rep." She called over the hand held radio on a DHS frequency. This was mostly going to be done under the FBI's radar, only their group and those already involved in the AV section were involved. The room they were currently in was locked and the surveillance camera blinded on Merrick's orders. If it were noted the security supervisor had a fault recorded on her log. Everyone else involved in the operation were from external agencies. The JTTF, as a whole had not been consulted either. That was going to cause some problems later, but that hardly mattered now.

"_DHS One, ready_." A small contingent of DHS agents and a large contingent of LAPD SWAT and bomb disposal officers were currently holding in the rear of a store. They had broken in a short time earlier, using the store to conceal their location and were finalising their preparations to move. The store was located adjacent to a small block house that contained two large metal doors that revealed a tunnel. DWP had opened the doors an hour or so ago and a SWAT officer had been able to confirm that their blue prints were correct, they had access. Megan had received the confirmation a short time after Don had been taken to the interrogation room after revealing his whole story.

"Reeves to DHS Two, sit-rep."

"_DHS Two, ready_." This was a second team comprising DHS agents, LAPD SWAT and bomb disposal. A second set of metal doors had been opened by DWP and a second access point confirmed. They were holding in an underground parking lot.

"Reeves to DHS Three, sit-rep."

"_DHS Three, ready_."

"Reeves to DHS Four, sit-rep."

"_DHS Four, ready_." These two units were at the two cell phone towers they had identified as critical to their plan. Each had also been broken into and there were going to be small simultaneous explosions set off by a bomb technician at each one. There was no time to get warrants and have the phone companies cooperate with them. The phone companies were just going to have to pick up the pieces afterwards. Reimbursement for damages from the US Government would probably help.

"Charlie?" Megan then asked directly, the math professor still looked a little wrung out from the phone call from Alan. She'd overheard him trying to convince their father that Don was alright. She resolutely closed off those thoughts, she had an operation to run.

Charlie was in a huddle surrounded by technicians all checking and re-checking the data feeds and preparing the recorded material. The field units were all in place and had been gathering data for a couple of hours now. At Megan's command the data feeds would be reversed and the recorded material broadcast in a stronger signal to override the real feed. The lead technician made a 'thumbs up' gesture. "We're ready."

"Hold for our go." Megan said into the radio before dialling a number to inform her contact that they were ready.

"_Good_." ADIC Merrick said. "_Stand-by_."

Megan waited, impatient as a few more minutes ticked by. When it came she was relieved and worried at the same time. They were taking action but it was going to be very dangerous, not just for the teams in the field or the people in the mall, but for Don as well.

"All DHS units." Megan sent. "Execute, execute, execute."

-11-1111-1100-10-11001-&-100-1-10110-1001-100-

Colby and David were set up in an office on the floor above Megan and Charlie. They had to be quiet as they were concealed close to their target. They had their vests on, as did Wachowski and they were all watching as the tech finished with Don. Barnathan and Merrick were also waiting.

Merrick's phone rang, the only sound was the phone buzzing on vibrate mode. "Merrick. … Good. … Stand-by."

"Everything is in place." Merrick said softly. "It's all up to you now."

"I'm ready." Don said, picking up the folder from the table. The same folder he'd shown them earlier. "Let's do this." He headed for the door.

Merrick raised his phone. "Reeves, it's a go."

--

_A/N: Short, I know, but this is where I needed to put a break. But as a consolation, read on…_


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

-100-1111-1110-

Don knocked deferentially on the door to Merrick's office. He entered at the invitation of the man inside, Deputy Assistant Director Ryder. Ryder had taken over Merrick's office not long after his arrival.

"Boss." Don said in greeting as he closed the door behind him.

"Ah, Special Agent Eppes." Ryder said looking up from his laptop screen and recognising his guest. He appeared a little confused as he had not been expecting him. "You had a near miss before."

"Yes boss."

"Please sit. I thought DHS had you confined to your floor?"

"I told them I wanted to see you."

"Where is your guardian?"

"Agent Wachowski is waiting outside." Don answered. "I guess he felt unwelcome."

Don watched as Ryder accepted the explanation. This was after all a meeting of a very senior FBI agent with a much lower ranking agent. The fact that the lower ranking agent was under a very dark cloud could make the tone of the meeting somewhat poor. As Don was unarmed there was also little chance that he could cause any trouble that Ryder couldn't handle for the second or so it would take Wachowski to get into the room. It would be reasonable that a junior DHS agent might feel that discretion was called for.

"So, what can I do for you Eppes?"

"We have some things to discuss." Don started.

Ryder frowned at the tone as he closed his laptop. "Yes?"

Don put the folder on the desk in front of Ryder.

Ryder pulled the folder over, opening it. He started reading the first page before rapidly flicking through the other pages noting the highlighted sections. "I see. Who else have you told?"

"Who could I tell? You have the remote for the bombs. I might know who you are but it gets me nowhere."

"Yes. Don't you have someplace to be?"

It was just after nine o'clock now and Ryder would know Telford's demand even if the JTTF had not passed it on. "The JTTF are still arguing the point. They seem to feel that I will be shot at again."

"So why have you come to me?"

"I want to know why. I know you'll overrule the JTTF and will send me out. Zuheen won't miss a second time. I want to know why you are doing this before I die."

Ryder dropped the folder carelessly back onto the desk. He knew its contents were worthless as they wouldn't be used, he would make certain of that. He sat back considering. The time had come. Finally he looked across the desk at his accuser. "You want to know why? Are you truly happy in your work, Eppes?"

"What?"

"How do you feel when some of them get away? When you have got them dead to rights and some jury lets them off or the DA cuts a deal and they walk away with a new name?"

"I don't like it." Don admitted. "But that's the way it works sometimes. There's nothing that I can do about it."

"There is always something that can be done. You just have to decide to do it. I just go the next step and finish the job that the courts won't. I was sick of seeing criminals get away with their crimes. Free to commit more crimes with the blessing of the DA."

"What about the agents? I don't understand you ordering the execution of fellow FBI agents."

"Traitors. They got what traitors deserve. _Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity_." Ryder didn't seem to see the irony in stating the FBI's motto. "They didn't live up to that standard. They don't deserve your sympathy. To have shamed the FBI, to have shamed decent hard working law enforcement officers such as you and I was beyond the pale. Execution was the only answer."

"_The Ride of the Valkyries_." Don mused. "Is that how you see yourself? But instead of choosing those from among the slain to go to Valhalla you chose who is to live or die?"

"Ah, I had been wondering. That's how you tracked me down." Ryder had his own unasked question answered.

Don moved on. "What about Zuheen? You've committed a terrorist act to catch a terrorist. You are just as bad as he is."

"This was never in my plans. It's all gotten out of hand. I feel I have lost control over my man, if I ever really had it."

Don was surprised at the shift, at Ryder trying to place the blame onto his subordinate. So much for 'fidelity', even if he had expected Ryder to show it to a fellow criminal. "If you had never had control over Telford I would not be here. He wanted to kill me after he executed Hendrik."

Don saw Ryder's eyes narrow momentarily then relax, he would have missed the 'tell' if he hadn't been looking for it. Ryder seemed to believe that Don had not identified the man who did his wet work. Ryder continued, "I believe my control was limited. Telford acted rashly, insisting on that operation despite having no information on the agent guarding the subject. At least he rang me first and listened when I ordered your release. He still had respect for me and my wishes. I fear it was a close run thing the second time you encountered him."

"Oh?" Don had wondered what had happened after Telford had knocked him out. He had truly been surprised to have woken up alive.

"I never told him that I had noticed, but as I met him at your car that night he had been about to draw his weapon. I think to finish you. He'd argued with me on that point earlier but I had insisted on you being given an explanation and a warning. You were only to be harmed if he had to defend himself." Ryder explained.

"Why was my safety so important?" Don wanted to know. "It would have made more sense for you to have had me killed back in the hotel room along with the informant."

"It would have made sense, yes. But we are not murderers." Ryder said. His calm and matter of fact explanation thus far showed that he believed in the righteousness of his actions. He obviously did not consider anything that they had done to be wrong. "I had seen some of your work before that day and knew you were a good man, some quick checking after his call confirmed my impression. I could not order Telford to kill you when I realised that you were one of us."

"I'm not one of you!" Don couldn't help protesting indignantly. For Ryder to think that he was like them was an insult. He calmed himself and thought it through. "You could order Telford to kill his own men though, and they were well and truly on your side."

"They were hired hands. Mercenaries. Not believers."

"I'm not a believer."

"Eppes, whether you realise it or not, you hold the same values as I do. Your work shows that. You don't take bribes or back off from the difficult jobs. You get the job done properly, and for the most part successfully, following the rule of law. But you would have taken the next step, sooner or later." Ryder looked at him with a thoughtful expression on his face before he continued. "I suspect you came close when your agent was kidnapped."

Don shook his head, forcing himself to stay cool. Despite his access to his files, agreeing with Merrick when the complaint from Buck Winters was written off, Ryder couldn't really know how close Don had been to going over the edge. He'd teetered but not fallen, not quite. He'd got Megan back before he'd fallen. Don regretted his actions but knew he would do the same thing if given the time over. He pushed the thoughts away, this was about Ryder not him.

"Is that why you put me in this position, you thought I would willingly work for you?"

"Willingly? No, I knew you weren't quite ready yet. This was a hasty operation, we couldn't lay much groundwork to help convince everyone it really was Zuheen."

"You had all the information from Homeland Security, his movements, his attack on the chemical convoy." Don protested. "You knew he was in California. There was no need to drag me into this."

"We needed someone to see the bombs, to know they were for real. We needed someone who we could easily convince of our sincerity and who could emphatically insist Zuheen was the bomber. We needed a target to bring Zuheen out of hiding." Ryder explained. "You fitted those criteria. Your history with Telford made it easy for him to control you."

Don shook his head in disgust, '_fidelity_' he thought to himself. _Ryder claimed to think that Don was of his kind, a vigilante in waiting, but was still willing to throw him to the wolves as bait, would soon send him back out to his death_. He had to bring this discussion back on track.

"You said that you've lost control of Telford. He followed your instructions in New York, killing Agent Gerhardt and the man she was guarding. He followed your instructions here, setting those bombs in the mall to force this whole incident."

"New York? Yes, that was my operation." Ryder confirmed. His tone of voice changed. "But the mall? He came across the intel regarding Zuheen before he executed Gerhardt. He wanted to act on it, insisted that we had no other option, that we had to respond to such important information. It was our duty. I fear he swayed me."

"This whole thing was his plan? Not yours?" Don said in disbelief. Everything Ryder had said up til now had put him firmly in control. "In the office, back at the start of this you were in charge, not him."

"No, Eppes. I was going along with it." Ryder said sadly. "I realise now it was all a fiction. He convinced me to approve this operation. I just thought I was in command."

Warning bells started to go off. Don had decided that the other man was mentally ill, he had to be otherwise he wouldn't be calmly explaining his capitol crimes like this. Wouldn't be showing utter conviction that his actions had been justified. But something was changing, the confession up to this point had been matter-of-fact but now Ryder was becoming somewhat morose, fatalistic even. He seemed to be drifting, becoming less connected to the real world. Something wasn't right.

Ryder continued slowly as if deep in thought. "I think now that was all over eight months ago. I ordered Telford to ensure your safety, but that meant he had to kill the men he'd used on the operation. He did it but I think it ate away at him, destroying his conviction. He followed me without question when I first found him. Now he wants to lead me, has led me down this wrong path. I've lost him. I feel I am alone now. Not even you understand what I have done. Or what I must do."

Don leapt up, flinging himself across the table. The other man had produced a small semi-automatic pistol. Don had been expecting Ryder to be armed, had expected the gun to be turned on him when it was produced but was instead shocked to see the senior agent raise the weapon to his own head. He was going to commit suicide. Don could not allow that, couldn't allow Ryder to take the easy way out. He had to answer for his crimes.

Unexpectedly Ryder dodged, rolling his chair sideways causing Don to land awkwardly, sprawling on the floor. He started to get his feet under him but Ryder was already there, the gun now pressing firmly and steadily against Don's forehead.

"I really should have listened to Telford."

--

_A/N: Oh, boy! A cliff hanger and no more until tomorrow. Nasty ALEO._


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER TWENTY

-100-1111-1110-

Ryder was calm as he stood over Don, no trace of the lacklustre tone that had been his voice moments before. "You are too dangerous to us. A simple phone call from him to my private number and you figure this all out."

Don realised Ryder's fatalism, his apparent attempt of suicide, had all been a ruse and he'd fallen for it. Don's desperate leap had created a scenario that Ryder could now use to his advantage knowing that another agent was close by. He tried to see the door from his position crouched on the floor, _where the hell was Wachowski?_ He tried to stall for time. "So what now, boss?"

Ryder winced slightly at the inflection Don had put on the honorific. "You attacked me, under orders of the terrorist. I had to use deadly force to protect myself. I'm truly sorry, Eppes." Ryder actually sounded regretful as he outlined his plan. The safety clicked off Ryder's gun just as the door finally sprang open.

Using the distraction Don grabbed at the gun with both hands, rolling himself onto the floor and dragging Ryder with him. It was a desperate move, one that was a last resort as it was just as likely to get him shot. He kept his hands locked, concentrating everything on the gun, fighting to keep it aimed away from him or anyone else. He ignored the vicious knee to his ribs as Ryder fought back. Suddenly it was over, other hands reaching in and pulling Ryder away. Don was finally able to wrench the gun from the other man's grip. Breathing rapidly and shallowly due to the pain in his ribs he rendered the small weapon safe before being helped to his feet by David. He gingerly probed his ribs but it seemed nothing was broken.

Ryder was still struggling but it was useless, he was already in cuffs and being held securely by Colby and Wachowski.

"He attacked me!" Ryder said, trying to maintain the fiction. "Watch him, he has the gun!"

"Sorry, boss." Colby managed to put almost the same inflection on the title that Don had moments earlier. He smiled at his team leader. "We got it all Don."

"Good." Don looked to the other man that entered the room. "Agent Barnathan, he's all yours."

Ryder realised it was all over as he saw the recorder in the DHS agents' hand. His struggles stopped abruptly.

"Deputy Assistant Director David Ryder, I'm placing you under arrest for crimes of terrorism against the United States of America."

"Where is the remote?" Don demanded.

Ryder stared at him before glancing at Barnathan. He sighed. "I want a deal."

"No deal." Barnathan and Don said at the same time.

"But you might get a credit if you cooperate on this." Barnathan added ignoring Don's glare.

"I suppose you'll find it anyway." Ryder said finally. "Mobile phone, speed dial 1."

"Where?"

"My pocket."

Don pulled two cell phones from Ryder's pocket and carefully put them on the table next to the man's laptop. One would be Ryder's work phone, the other his private cell.

"Get him out of here." Barnathan ordered. Colby and Wachowski pulled the prisoner out of the room, Colby surrendering his place to another DHS agent waiting outside. Merrick was also waiting, an expression of absolute disgust on his face.

"That was a risk you took, Eppes." Barnathan said shaking Don's hand.

"Yeah." He knew it was true but he was the only one that could have got the final evidence they needed to move on Ryder. "Now we just have one more loose end to clear up."

"How are you going to find Telford?"

"He's lost his inside source. He'll call me soon, he has to, to find out why I didn't go to the mall as ordered. He'll arrange a meet."

"Why would he meet? He'll just ask you over the phone."

"He thinks I'm still his and he'll want me to go to him. He wants to expose me to Zuheen."

"I hope you're right. We've got Ryder's phones, one will have Telford's number in it but we can't use them." There were two reasons for that. They didn't dare fiddle with Ryder's phones until the techs had gone over them ensuring that they couldn't accidentally detonate the explosives. Despite shutting down the cell phone towers covering the mall area, timed to coincide with Don entering the office, the risk that the detonators weren't satellite phones wasn't alleviated. The other was that they couldn't trust Ryder to make a pretext call on their behalf to lure Telford into a trap.

"The mall?" Don asked. He saw that Barnathan was wearing an earpiece letting him stay in contact with the teams in the field.

"We've isolated the bombs but the people are still in the mall. It's far from secure yet, but having the remote takes away most of the risk."

They had switched Ryder's real time feed to the surveillance cameras to their recorded footage just after Don had gone into the office, counting on Don to divert Ryder's attention. They had been sure that Ryder would have been monitoring the footage via his computer. At the thought Don opened the laptop up and showed Barnathan the screen. A series of thumbnails of the 'terrorist's' surveillance footage of the mall along with another larger window open to a news broadcast. They couldn't do anything about the threat posed by Telford though but they'd had to take the risk.

Bomb disposal had only had the time since Don had entered the office, barely enough time to get into the mall via the DWP's underground tunnels and put portable shields over the bombs. Now they would be working on moving the hostages as far from the explosives as possible using Charlies blast analysis work to find the safest places. They couldn't yet evacuate them because the media would be broadcasting within seconds. It had to still be kept quiet with the blocked cell phones also preventing the hostages from calling out and alerting family or media.

Bomb disposal would also be starting to secure the bombs for removal once they were sure there were no motion sensors as a secondary detonation circuit. Don doubted there would be, they way the explosives had been planted left them open to being jostled and accidentally set off if they were motion sensitive.

Now as he had said there was one final loose end and they had to wait for that to play out. Fortunately the wait wasn't long, Don had missed the allotted time and Telford wanted an explanation.

Half an hour later Don climbed out of the surveillance car having arrived at the meet back under the same freeway overpass. He'd left his SUV behind, taking the non-descript car instead due to the risk of Zuheen targeting him. Several vehicles left the FBI garage at the same time, including an armoured SUV which was a close match for his. They had then spread out in different directions within a few blocks of the building. It was their best plan to protect Don in case their current thinking was wrong, that Zuheen hadn't cut his losses and taken off to escape the now obvious trap. Don was alone and couldn't even wear body armour, it would give the game away.

Telford was already waiting, confident in his power.

"I see you managed to get away without your escort, agent." Telford noted.

"I told them I had to meet with Zuheen's man. It wasn't easy but they finally realised that they had no choice but to let me go." Don said.

"Good."

"So why am I here?"

"I want to know the state of play."

Don hid his feeling of elation, now they had confirmation from a second source of Ryder's traitorous actions. Telford had lost contact with his boss and was no longer being fed information.

"Did you shoot at me?" Don demanded. He needed to be sure.

"No, it was Zuheen." Telford answered. "Why did you miss the broadcast?"

"After that attempt on my life earlier they refused allow me to risk the last news briefing as you ordered."

"You convinced them to let you come to me, you better convince them to let you make the next broadcast slot. You are lucky that my employer hasn't detonated a bomb for your disobedience." Telford threatened. "We are close, we almost had Zuheen."

"Zuheen's long gone now. He's not stupid, he would know that this has all been a trap. Continuing this charade is a waste of time. It's over."

"We continue until we decide otherwise." Telford frowned. Don was arguing back too much, wasn't backing down as he should be. "I don't like your attitude, have you forgotten what we are capable of doing?"

"No, I haven't forgotten." Don decided he had enough evidence. He unhurriedly drew the gun from the concealed holster at the small of his back, raising it to point at the other man. "I'm just not doing anything more for you."

"Put the weapon away, agent." Telford said calmly, dismissively.

"Oh? Why should I do that?"

Telford hesitated. He knew that something was very wrong, he'd lost control. He tried to bluff it out. "Your life is mine, Eppes. Don't make me take it."

"You have nothing over me anymore, Telford." Don said watching as his tormentors eyes narrowed. "The bombs are disarmed, all seven of them, and the mall is being evacuated as we speak. Deputy Assistant Director Ryder, your 'employer' as you called him, is in custody."

"How?" Now he seemed rattled.

"How did I know who your boss was? It was you actually. If you hadn't have rung him when you did I would never have put the pieces together. Once I had the first bit the rest just fell into place." Don couldn't help it and added: "That included you, Steven James Telson."

"So you do know." Telson, formerly Telford said. "I told Ryder you were too dangerous to let live."

Don noticed that Telson now had his emotions locked down and was eyeing the gun with more respect now that he knew Don had no reason not to use it. "Good thing you weren't in charge then."

"You've solved that for me now. I shall have to remedy old mistakes." Telson's voice was cold. He saw Don's sudden, small movement and added: "But not, I think, today.

Don had placed his finger on the trigger and taken up the slack at Telson's threat. "Just give me an excuse." Don said tightly, bracing himself, ready to shoot.

Telson shook his head. "I am yours, Agent. But unlike you however, I don't give my life away so easily."

Don watched with a degree of surprise as the former agent raised his hands, palms outward, away from his body and made no threatening moves. He knew what Telson meant, he had surrendered but would not make Don kill him. Don took no chances however, pulling his handcuffs out and tossing them at Telson. There was no way he was going to step within grabbing range. "Put them on."

Telson snapped the first cuff on then started to do the same to his right wrist but stopped at a command from Don.

"Behind your back. Turn around."

Telson turned, put his hands behind his back and closed the second cuff.

"On your knees, cross your ankles."

Telson knelt then awkwardly crossed his ankles. It was a classic position used by law enforcement agencies to make it hard for a suspect to rapidly get to his feet.

Don finally felt safe enough to close the distance between them, moving up behind Telson intending to search the man for weapons. He had a sudden flashback to the warehouse, of Boots standing behind him. The safety clicking off, the gun pointed at his head. When his vision cleared and returned to the present he found that he was now only a few feet behind Telson, standing over his prisoner as Boots had stood over him.

His breathing stopped then became ragged. The temptation was great, the greatest he had ever experienced. He forgot about searching his prisoner, forgot about procedure, forgot about being an FBI agent, his awareness fixed on one thing. His hands flexed on the butt of his Glock as he aimed squarely at the back of Telson's head. In his mind's eye he could see the result of a shot, Telson falling forward bonelessly, dead in an instant. It would all be over. Telson would not be able to control him again. It was justifiable, Telson had killed agents, had threatened innocents. Had terrorised Don into working for him. He would be doing everyone a favour if he just squeezed the trigger here and now. A few pounds of pressure were all it would take. His finger almost of its own volition slid back inside the trigger guard, caressing the trigger and started taking up the slack.

--

_A/N: Uh-oh!_


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

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He long he stood there he didn't know but Don suddenly came to his senses. _What the hell was he thinking?_ He would be no better than them if he did this. To kill Telson like this was vigilantism, pure and simple. Murder. He had never before really understood how cops turned vigilante, academically yes, but not emotionally. But now he did. And that thought alone was enough to shock Don. His pulled his finger off the trigger and stepped back, lowering the gun slightly, his aim not as precise. He started shaking in reaction. This was not him, he couldn't murder in cold blood.

There was movement behind him and a soft voice: "Don?"

His attention had been so taken with his thoughts he hadn't heard the vehicle arriving behind him. He didn't turn, he couldn't afford to take his eyes off his prisoner, Telson was too dangerous.

"Don?" She had seen his stance shift slightly, knew that he had heard her. Megan moved closer until she was standing next to her boss in his field of view. She took another cautious step so that now she was standing next to his extended arm. Her free hand came up towards his gun, slowly and carefully. She stopped just short of touching him.

"Megan." Don acknowledged, the word barely audible. He watched as Colby and David moved in towards Telson, guns aimed at the kneeling man. They stopped just short, out of his line of fire.

"We've got him." Megan said. She holstered her own gun as her left hand slid over the barrel of his Glock, her fingers gently touching his. She didn't apply any force. Don was starting to shake violently, was hanging on by a thread, any sudden pressure could shatter the moment. She waited.

Don took a deep breath then relaxed his grip on his gun allowing her take it from him. _Ryder had been right_, Don realised, _given the right circumstances he would step outside the bounds of law_. The fact that he had figuratively and literally stepped back from the abyss didn't enter his thoughts. He just knew that he didn't trust himself with a firearm whilst Telson was present. He dropped his suddenly aching arm and turned away. "Check the cuffs."

"We got him Don." Colby said.

"What took so long?" Don asked Megan. He pulled his wire off and handed it and the digital recorder to her.

"His back-up were waiting. We just saw them in time." She explained carefully pocketing the recorder. "We got them both, they're on their way to the office with the other team."

Don nodded then went back to the car and got into the passenger seat, he didn't feel up to driving anywhere. The shakes started to ease as he watched his team thoroughly search Telson removing his weapons and cell phone before lifting him to his feet. The prisoner was taken to the armoured decoy suburban that his team had been driving and placed into the back. Telson looked over at Don as the door closed and unaccountably smiled. Don suppressed a shudder and maintained a steady gaze until Telson turned away.

Megan, Colby and David had a short discussion before Megan climbed in beside her boss and sat behind the steering wheel. Don heard David call it in on the radio from the armoured SUV. The SUV then backed out and drove away, followed by a LAPD unit that Don hadn't even known was there.

"Do you want this back?" Megan asked holding up his gun.

Don looked at the weapon. He had nearly used it and he knew that if he had done so, if he had crossed that line, it would have ended up in his own destruction. He had killed before in self defence. He had even killed with some satisfaction when he shot Crystal Hoyle as she had driven her car at their roadblock in an apparent attempt to take as many of them with her as she could. He'd fired before Edgerton could, his aim deadly accurate.

But the satisfaction had lasted only a short time before the horror at having taken a life, no matter how justified, had settled onto his thoughts. Along with the realisation of how far he had gone to get Megan back, and how far he might have gone if it had been necessary. He remembered going home after the shooting, his brother asking how things had gone, "_Bad, huh?_" and his own short reply, "_Yeah_".

But that had been in self defence and the defence of others. Shooting Telson would have been murder. He knew he wouldn't have been able to live with the decision to kill Telson in cold blood. He had realised what he was about to do before Megan had called out to him, he had pulled himself back in time.

"Yeah." He took the Glock and held it in his hand for a few moments contemplating the lethalness of the weapon as if for the first time. He finally slid it back into the concealed holster. "Thanks Megan."

"No problem, boss." She said keeping her tone neutral. She knew she had to keep it simple, knew that Don was in a delicate frame of mind. He needed support, not analysis.

"It's over." He said. And it was for them, especially for Don. Homeland Security would take it on from here, relieving the FBI of the case. With the mastermind behind the mall having been FBI, it was no longer possible for the FBI as the normal lead agency to investigate impartially. The investigation had to be handled outside. Don would have no more involvement regardless; he was after all, a victim.

"Let me take you home."

Don didn't want to be alone. He was worried where his thoughts would take him if he went to his apartment. He needed company. "Take me to Charlie's."

"You got it." That was what she had meant and where she had every intention of taking him regardless of his wishes anyway. Megan started the car and pulled out, turning in the opposite direction, away from the office.

They travelled in silence, Don trying to come to terms with his own demons, with the choice he'd almost made. And the fact that he hadn't. Megan understood that he needed the time and left him with his thoughts. They pulled into the driveway outside the Craftsman house.

"Talk to them, Don." She said as he started to get out. "Tell them everything, including about last time."

Don looked back. _How did she know he hadn't told them about that?_

"Tell them." Megan insisted. "Trust me, it will help. They are strong enough to take it."

Don looked at the door of the house as it opened and Charlie and Alan stepped out onto the porch. He turned back to Megan. "Yeah, I guess so." He said dully as closed the car door. Finally after twenty-four hours, the longest twenty-four hours of his life, it was all over. His was no longer able to escape the aches and pains from his various injuries. He found he had no more energy for emotion.

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As the door to the house opened Megan had been relieved. It meant that David or Colby had been able to phone and warn Don's father and brother that they were coming. They'd sent Charlie home after Don had left the building, whatever was going to happen was going to happen and they needed to be together. Megan watched as her boss walked slowly up to the door, saw Alan put his arm around his eldest son's shoulders and help him inside. Charlie glanced back at her and waved before closing the door. Megan put the FBI sedan in reverse and pulled out onto the street.

Don would be alright. It would take a little time she knew, but Don had already taken the first step himself. When they had finally arrived to back Don up they had seen from the way he had been standing behind Telson exactly what he intended. As a behavioural analyst she completely understood why. She was glad that he hadn't seen them behind him. Don didn't know that she'd been forced to aim her weapon him. That was going to bother her for some time. She'd hesitated but that had given Don the time he needed to change his mind.

Of his own volition he had stepped back and lowered his gun before she had been forced to take action. The time of greatest temptation and he had resisted it without help. The iron will that led to others secretly calling him a control freak was a two edged sword. Being a helpless pawn in Telson's game had caused him great distress. But that need to be in control was what had saved him in the end. Megan was confident that he would come to terms with everything that had happened.

Eventually. If he didn't bottle it all up like normal.

_**A/N:**__ Knew he couldn't do it, but he sure was tempted. Couldn't even hit him, 'never struck a prisoner in his life'. This was the end, but one of the characters objected. He wanted to get his two cents in. I didn't want to argue with him. . ._

_**TBC**_


	22. Chapter 22 Coda

**NUMB3RS: An Unexpected Meeting**

**Disclaimer** – I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. All real organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.

_A/N: This is the final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed the tale. Thanks especially to all those who reviewed._

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It had been just over a week since Megan had dropped him at Charlie's house after the arrest of Deputy Assistant Director Ryder and Telson. A week during which he'd recovered physically but had not made too much headway with clearing his thoughts. He had a lot to come to terms with. Mostly he'd put it out of his mind, a well honed skill, concentrating firstly on some well earned rest and then on getting the full events on paper. But it was all still there, simmering away and needing release.

Don was on his way home to his apartment from the field office when his cell rang. It was his brother Charlie, his car broken down at CalSci and needing a lift home. Don took the next offramp and headed back the way he'd just come.

Although traffic was definitely better now that it had been during the two days before Christmas it still took some time before he finally pulled into the CalSci campus. He drove to the parking lot out the front of the maths building and pulled up next to the curb. There were only a couple of cars in the lot so he figured it didn't really matter where he stopped. After waiting a few minutes he pulled his cell off his belt and dialled his younger brother's number knowing that he was probably engrossed in a problem on one the whiteboards in his office.

"_Hey, Don_." Charlie answered. "_I'm with someone, but I'll be right down._"

Don snapped his phone closed and sat back as he waited. He'd just spent the day at the field office finalising his statement. It had taken days to type on one of Charlie's old laptops at home and had still needed work once he got into the office and the familiar setting jogged his memory for more details. Finally it had been done and he'd handed it personally to Merrick. The ADIC was drowning under the load of paperwork and constant messages from on high over what had happened. It was no small thing, the unmasking of Deputy Assistant Director Ryder as a terrorist and murderer.

Don had walked into the MIR looking for Merrick and for the first time had seen a fuzzy image of the terrorist blamed for the attack, Zuheen. The photo had obviously been taken at an extreme distance but the features were recognisable enough. The JTTF firmly believed, as he did, that the terrorist had fled LA after all the publicity. When Don finally left the FBI Field Office he'd headed to his own apartment, planning to spend his first night in his own home since Telford's capture. Merrick had extended his leave another week and he needed his own space to get some serious thinking done. He felt he was over the danger of being alone, the lack of distractions now would be to his advantage.

He looked around as he waited for his brother to drag himself out of his office. The university was very quite, being the day after New Years. Charlie wouldn't normally have gone into his office but he'd said that he'd received a phone call and wanted to talk to someone about the lecture he'd been giving before he'd been dragged off by the NSA. Don noticed a few young men wandering across the manicured lawn, two sitting on a bench seat and another leaning against a tree. There was a shadow of something leaning against the tree behind the man. All were mid-eastern in appearance with the exception of a caucasian male who was walking away.

Don shook his head, _gotta learn to switch off_, he thought to himself. His casual glance had started to turn into a threat assessment. It was one thing to have an idea who was around but another when he started measuring up those he'd seen, cataloguing their locations and demeanours. He'd said many times that he was always on duty but he was starting to realise that he needed on occasion to allow himself to be just Don Eppes, not FBI Special Agent Eppes. He determinedly looked away, watching the passing flow of traffic on the main road a short distance away.

Despite himself he had started another visual sweep of the area to his left, seeing the same men in mostly the same positions just as the doors to the building opened and he saw Charlie emerge. The young math professor was not alone, walking down the stairs deep in conversation with a student his age. Don sighed, remembering that Charlie had said he was with someone. There would be a longer delay now as Charlie often found it had to break off a conversation about math, especially with an eager student. He had so been looking forward to relaxing at home.

Eventually the two men were standing, still deep in conversation, a few feet from the side of Don's SUV. Charlie turned when he felt his brother's gaze. "Hey, Don."

"Hey yourself." Don answered. "What's up?"

Charlie glanced over at his car parked in its space all alone, the nearest car several spaces away. "It just wouldn't start. The auto club was snowed under so it will have to wait until tomorrow. Thanks for coming."

"No problem." His tone was light but Don started to frown.

Charlie carried on. "This is Iyaz. He's a student from Turkey, he has to fly home tomorrow and wanted to catch up. . ."

Don's attention had been drawn to the student whilst Charlie spoke. The student was in his late twenties or early thirties, slender like Charlie and the hair was longish and jet black. The tanned skin and largish nose completed the picture. Charlie's voice faded from his awareness as Don stiffened, realising where he'd seen the face before.

The other man noticed Don's reaction and shook his head in warning. Then, in a gesture unseen by the still chatting math professor, he raised his fingers to point at his eyes and then circled one finger around pointing vertically. It was a signal that Don himself had often used meaning: _'look around'_. Don flicked his gaze around the immediate area, again seeing the group of mid-eastern men. He bitterly recalled his earlier thought about conducting a threat assessment. His instincts had been dead on and he'd ignored them.

The men were now watching his SUV with interest. Don saw that the one who'd been leaning next to a tree a short distance away was moving into position crouched at the rear side of Charlie's car, pulling a dark object out of a long bag. Don recognised the unmistakeable shape of a shoulder mounted rocket launcher. His SUV, with him in it, would make a ridiculously easy target from such a short distance. The resultant explosion would also kill Charlie and the 'student'. Not the first time someone had martyred themselves for their cause. The gun riding on Don's hip didn't even factor into the equation. Don sat perfectly still in his seat, only turning his head as he returned his gaze to the man's eyes. Charlie was still speaking but Don hadn't heard a word.

"Professor?" The man interrupted, his accented voice soft. "I think you left your cell phone upstairs in your office."

"Huh?" Charlie started patting at his pockets. When he was deep in math world he became an almost classic absent minded professor, never as bad as Larry though. "Oh, yeah. Hang on Don." Charlie turned and headed back to his building oblivious to his brother's frozen posture.

Don opened his mouth to say something but the other man shook his head and Don remained silent, watching his younger brother walk off.

"So, FBI Special Agent Eppes. You recognise me." The man said once Charlie was out of earshot.

"Yes." Don agreed. "Whatever you want with me is between us. Leave my brother out of this."

"He is safe."

Don watched a little longer as Charlie went inside the building, followed a few moments later by the two men who'd been waiting on the bench seat.

"They will not harm him." Zuheen insisted.

"What do you want?" Don noticed movement to his right as another man moved in to stand near the passenger side of his SUV.

"I wish to speak with you."

"About?" Don asked coldly. This was the man who had murdered hundreds of people around the world. _Who had tried to murder him_.

Zuheen turned to look back at the doors to the math building. "Your brother, he is a good man."

"Yes, he is."

"I am a fan of his, you know."

Don was confused. "What?"

"I was in his lecture the other day when the government men took him away. It was fascinating and I wanted to hear more about it before I left." The terrorist turned back.

"You've been in his lectures?"

"Unfortunately I have only caught the one."

"What do you want with me?" Charlie's car breaking down was obviously no accident. This meeting had been planned.

"You were targeted in my name. Your brother was part of that. I was distressed when I realised who you were."

"You shot at me."

"We had no choice."

"There is always a choice." Funny how some phrases repeated themselves.

"Perhaps." The terrorist admitted. "I am relieved that we missed."

"Why?" Don asked. "How many have you killed, that one more would cause you any concern?"

"An unpleasant side effect of my work."

"That is the intent of your 'work'." Don argued back, _what terrorist didn't aim to kill?_

Zuheen looked around at his men, the closest a few yards away on the opposite side of the SUV. His voice became quieter, private. "The intent of my work is the explosions. I like explosions. I like the challenge of getting around all the security precautions. The rest is up to them." He sounded like a kid discussing a hobby.

"Huh?" _Why was the man explaining himself? To him?_

"Explosives cost money, I need backers." Zuheen shrugged. "They pay, I deliver."

Don stared at the man. _Was he saying he didn't believe in his own rhetoric? That he was using the other terrorists so that he could play with explosives?_ He then saw the gleam of madness in the terrorist's eyes. He had a sudden flash of insight, the man was clearly very intelligent and had to be deeply interested in math otherwise he wouldn't be a fan of Charlie's. Perhaps he really was a student somewhere. But he was also certifiably mad, getting off on blowing things up. Intelligence and mania, a very dangerous combination.

"Okay." Don said slowly as one would to a crazy man.

Zuheen cocked his head and smiled as he looked at the FBI agent. "You understand now."

"Yes." _No, not really_.

"I am pleased. Here." Zuheen pulled something from his pocket and Don couldn't help but flinch. The man shook his head and smiled. "Just your brother's phone." He held the device out.

The terrorist had obviously lifted the phone from Charlie to set up this little private tête-à-tête. Don didn't make any move to take it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Zuheen, he did. He trusted that the phone was now most probably a bomb.

"I have not tampered with it, your brother will need it back." The terrorist explained. "He'll be in the car with you and I don't want to harm him. As I said, I admire his work. Take it."

Don slowly raised his left hand and gingerly took the phone. "You are letting us go?" It seemed as though he might survive this, that Charlie might survive this.

"I only wanted to talk."

"What about what your 'backers' want?" Don jerked his chin at the man beside Charlie's car.

"What do they care about one FBI agent and a math professor?" The man reasoned. "Besides, I ask for a favour and they grant me one. I wanted to meet you both."

_Definitely insane. Certifiably, absolutely, straight jacket and rubber-room insane_.

"What now?" Don asked. He again looked around to see the terrorist's men holding in the same positions. Zuheen held up his hand, _'wait'_. He pulled a second cell phone from his pocket and again Don couldn't help but tense up. Even Ryder had used a cell phone as a detonator.

The terrorist saw Don's expression. "I'm calling my friends to bring your brother back down." There followed some quiet Arabic as he made his call.

A couple of minutes later a puzzled Charlie came back out from the building, speaking with one man as the other followed. The two men held back as Charlie reached Zuheen.

"I am sorry professor, I think I picked up your phone by mistake." Zuheen said. "I've given it to your brother here."

"Get in the car, Charlie." Don instructed, his voice sharp.

"What?"

Don repeated himself as Zuheen nodded assent. Charlie did as he was told, a confused look on his face. "We're done?" Don said to the terrorist as Charlie pulled his door closed.

"It was my honour to have met you Professor Eppes." Zuheen said ignoring Don and leaning partway into the driver's window. "Perhaps we will meet again."

Don held back his growl, now was not the time to antagonise him. The man with the rocket launcher was still in place, but had ducked back slightly so Charlie probably hadn't realised he was there. The other man that had been at the passenger side of his SUV had moved away to stand a short distance behind them but was still visible in the rearview mirror. They were not safe yet.

"I would like that, Iyaz. Next time you are in the US, look me up." Charlie said pleasantly, not understanding why his brother was suddenly being so rude.

Zuheen stepped away, moving his hand in a dismissive gesture visible only to Don. _They could go_. Don started up the SUV and drove away cautiously, not too fast, not too slow either, his attention engaged in watching as many of the terrorists as he could see. As they neared the main road Don realised that he was still holding Charlie's cell phone. He tossed it out the window onto the grass verge.

"Hey!" Charlie protested. "My cell!"

"That was Zuheen." Don told his younger brother bluntly. At Charlie's shocked expression he added: "Your phone was probably a bomb."

"Iyaz? You mean he was-?"

Don nodded sharply as he peeled out into the traffic, speed was now of the essence. He pulled his cell off his belt and dialled in to control.

"But he knew math!" Charlie insisted after Don had called it in. "He was interested in Loop Quantum Gravity Theory."

"So?" Don said, not having a clue what that might be. But that was hardly the point. "Charlie, have you ever thought what you might be capable of doing if you weren't on the side of the angels?"

Charlie still stared at him, unconvinced, as Don continued accelerating weaving through the slower moving traffic. Don finally saw what he was looking for, the sports field near CalSci, often used by CalSci students. He pulled off the road and crashed through the light chain across the vehicle entrance. He stopped in the middle of the field, away from all the structures. He left the keys in the ignition and the engine running, he was taking no chances that the SUV had been interfered with whilst his attention was distracted with Zuheen.

"Charlie, get out."

"What are you doing?" Charlie clearly thought his brother was a few propositions short of a theorem.

"Come on Charlie!" Don raced around the passenger side and all but hauled his younger brother out of the vehicle and started dragging him away. "There might be a bomb on the car."

Half an hour later the brothers were sitting in the bottom row of a grandstand watching as the LAPD bomb squad finished going over the SUV. They'd found nothing as the sergeant just reported. "Your brother's cell is also clear. The team are going over his office now."

"Thanks, Sergeant." Don told the man.

"Man, you do lead an exciting life." Colby said by way of greeting as he arrived, tailed by David and Megan.

"I could do with a break." Don said ruefully. He was supposed to be on leave as it was.

"Sorry, but Merrick and Barnathan want your report. Charlie too." Megan passed on. "We're to make sure you get back safely."

"Yeah." Don stood noting that his team had arrived in one of the armoured SUV's. They were probably loaded for bear. There was no need, the terrorist was gone. He turned towards his own SUV, still sitting in the middle of the field and saw another agent get into it. "C'mon Chuck, let's get this done."

Although Charlie obediently rose and followed him to the armoured SUV Don saw that he was too deep in thought to react to the name 'Chuck'. He figured that even after three years of exposure to his work Charlie still had a naiveté where it came to people. As Charlie had said back in the car, the terrorist was into math therefore he couldn't be a terrorist.

But Don had to agree to a certain extent. It was like the terrorist was two men, the extremist and the mild mannered math student. The extremist Zuheen was a fiction made up by his backers, the rhetoric written for him. Iyaz was just a brilliant lunatic, happy blowing things up. The insight was critical, the profilers were going to have some very busy days ahead as they tried to come to terms with the new intel.

Don sat in the back seat with Charlie and David as Megan drove them out of the sports field with Colby in the front passenger seat. Another few hours at the office and then he was getting the hell out of Dodge. The lid was still on his simmering thoughts, but only just. He decided he was going to spend the week somewhere else, alone on a mountain sounded good, winter or no winter. He would leave tonight, leaving behind the FBI special agent persona and become Don Eppes, hiker. He was going to switch his cell phone off as well. The decision made a weight lifted from him and he already felt better.

END

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_**A/N:**__ Finally, it is over. I really enjoyed writing this story and, from the reviews, you have enjoyed reading it. Thank-you._

_Next story coming up very soon…_


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